


How the light gets in

by Coriaria



Series: Cast in the Mould [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content (eventually), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other canon character deaths mentions hence the tag, Past Child Abuse, Post-DH but Snape and Lupin survive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 12:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13481199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coriaria/pseuds/Coriaria
Summary: The war is over. Lupin and Snape have survived, but only just. Circumstances draw them together once again, but, in the end, are they just too damaged to do anything but keep on hurting each other?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All recognisable characters belong to JKR, etc etc. The title comes from Leonard Cohen.

Remus Lupin’s visitors were a mix of Order members coming to say that they were sorry about Tonks’ death and healers coming to stare at the man who’d come back to life after a killing curse. Well, as they’d point out, the werewolf who’d come back after a killing curse. They would come in small groups, standing at the end of his bed and speaking to eachother in whispers they assumed he couldn’t hear. He pretended to be asleep, or at least that he hadn’t noticed them there. He had no desire to speak with them. None bothered to bring him Wolfsbane; when the full moon came around they simply locked in him a basement room at St Mungo’s.

The Order members were less frequent and less unwelcome. Some came alone and offered their condolences before lapsing into an awkward silence. Arthur and Molly Weasley came together and he offered his condolences as they offered theirs. He had nothing much to say to anyone. He was weak, exhausted and grieving.

Finally, Harry turned up, looking miserable and tired. Like Lupin, he was considered lucky to survive. It also appeared that, like Lupin, he didn’t really feel lucky. He’d said he was sorry about Tonks, told Lupin that Andromeda was refusing to let him see his godson and then sat looking uncomfortable.

“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. It’s about… Professor Snape.”

Lupin went still. He’d heard various stories about the final battle, but nobody had mentioned Snape.

“He’s in Azkaban,” Harry continued. He seemed about to say more, but fell silent, instead looking across at Lupin.

“I see.”

Lupin’s voice was expressionless.

“Remus… I think… no, I know – you were right. You were right all along and I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

“What do you mean, Harry?”

“You were right. He wasn’t a traitor. He was doing Professor Dumbledore’s bidding until the very end… the end of the war.”

Lupin didn’t move, didn’t flinch, didn’t draw in a sharp gasp of breath. He held himself completely still until he was sure he had control of himself. Finally, he drew a deep breath and spoke again.

“Dumbledore asked Snape to kill him, didn’t he?”

“You knew?”

“No Harry, but… I did overhear them discussing something a couple of weeks before. Dumbledore was asking Severus to do something and Severus didn’t want to do it. It struck me afterwards that perhaps Severus had been doing exactly what Dumbledore asked.”

Harry let out a long sigh.

“He was dying. He was cursed, from Marvolo Gaunt’s ring. He only had a few weeks to live. It was planned to get Snape closer to Voldemort and to protect Draco Malfoy’s soul.”

“I don’t suppose Severus’s soul was a consideration,” Lupin said softly.

Harry didn’t respond. He sat looking at his hands, as if they would tell him what to say next. There was something bothering him, something much more than just misjudging his former teacher. Lupin knew that Harry was capable of accepting he had been wrong and moving on. So there was something else that he hadn’t said.

“Harry,” Lupin said, reaching across and placing his hand gently on the young man’s arm, “would you like to tell me what happened? I’ve heard rather a lot about the final battle, but nobody else has mentioned… Severus.”

Harry looked up then.

“You didn’t hear?”

He stood, suddenly agitated. He began to pace the room, and as he paced, he talked. The final battle, the elder wand, Nagini, Snape’s memories. As Harry began to talk about what he had seen - Snape’s childhood, his teenage years at Hogwarts, taking the dark mark, the return to Dumbledore, Lily’s death, Snape’s role as Harry’s protector, Lupin began to feel progressively more uncomfortable. There were certain events in Snape’s life history that Lupin had no desire to discuss with anyone, especially not an eighteen year old who he’d known since he was a baby.

But it appeared that Snape hadn’t shared quite everything. Harry spoke of Dumbledore’s horrible request, and Snape’s unending loyalty to Lily, but he appeared mercifully unaware that Snape’s love of Lily had not prevented him from finding solace in the arms, and the bed, of a man. And not just any man, but Remus Lupin.

“So why is he in Azkaban if he was still acting for the Order, Harry?”

“The evidence is… well, limited. I know because of the memories. I have them in Dumbledore’s pensieve. I’ve shown them to a few others, but not everyone believes me. Most of them still think he’s a traitor, that he deserves to rot in Azkaban. But… I knew you would listen.”

Harry looked away, his face sad.

“You look tired, Harry.”

“I… I went to see him. I went to Azkaban. Remus, it… it was so horrible. And he’s just so… he’s so sick and he’s so… broken. I know that they say it’s better because the dementors have gone, but… just barely. The place still feels like the dementors.”

Harry had grabbed at Lupin’s arm and was staring at him with green-eyed intensity.

“When I saw him, he knew who I was, but he had no idea what had happened. The memories he gave to me are memories he doesn’t have. He’s confused all the time. The aurors interrogate him and he can’t answer them, but they won’t let me give him his memories back. Not until after the trial, if then.”

Harry had begun to shake and his voice raised slightly in pitch.

“Some of the things in his memories… they are so horrible. I don’t think he intended me to see… his childhood… Merlin… he said he wanted to give me the memories of my mother… but his parents… he would never have… I can’t think he would have wanted me to see that. I… I just hated him so much… for so long, but… all that time, he helped me… he helped me out of love for my mother and I… I was so… “

Harry seemed to realise that he was starting to sound incoherent. He stopped speaking and looked away.

“Harry, you mustn’t blame yourself.”

That was pure irony of course, as Lupin surely blamed himself. But he couldn’t blame Harry.

“You were supposed to believe he was on Voldemort’s side. And… Harry, he was horrible to you. He was angry and vindictive and you were just a boy. That wasn’t fair.”

Harry looked up at Lupin, thoughtful.

“Would you come with me? When you are out of hospital, would you come with me to see him? He’s got nobody else and… I feel responsible. I know that’s crazy, but I can’t just leave him to suffer like that.”

Lupin nodded. He didn’t need to be asked twice.


	2. Chapter 2

Snape was between two burly guards, and Lupin could see that he was only managing to stay upright because they were holding his arms. The bandages at his neck were stained, his hair matted, his clothes filthy. The guards stepped into the room and shoved him roughly forward, and he fell onto his face, making little effort to break his fall. He lay unmoving.

“Professor? Professor Snape?”

Harry crouched beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Sir? It’s Harry. Harry Potter. Remember?”

Snape’s eyes were blank, almost dead. They showed no recognition or even interest in the young man in front of him.

“Severus?”

Lupin crouched beside Harry and touched Snape’s arm.

“It’s me. It’s Remus.”

The dark eyes flicked to Lupin’s face, then away again.

“Hello, Severus. I… I won’t ask how you are, as I can see you’re feeling pretty miserable right now. But we’ve brought some clean bandages and some salves for your wound. I’ll clean that up for you and you might feel a little better.”

Snape blinked, the faintest hint of acknowledgement in his eyes.

Lupin folded up his cardigan, then rolled Snape over so his head was resting on it. He pulled a small vial out of the bag he had with him and held it to Snape’s lips.

“This is for the pain. They wouldn’t let us bring you anything very strong, but it will make it a bit easier when I’m cleaning your wound.”

He held Snape’s head up as he swallowed and made a disgusted face. For a few moments he was silent, then his face relaxed slightly as the potion took effect.

“Commercial-grade _Salicia_ potion,” he muttered indisinctly. “I make… better than that.”

“I remember that, Severus, you used to make it for me sometimes. Do you remember?”

Snape’s eyes flicked away, and Lupin wondered if he did. Lupin laid his head back down and began removing the stained bandages to reveal the angry wound beneath.

“This is awful, Harry. There’s no way he should be in here. He needs to be in hospital.”

“I know, but I just get told that he’s a Death Eater and so he’s too dangerous to be in St Mungo’s. They tell me that he receives medical attention here, but those bandages are the ones I applied the last time I visited.”

Lupin nodded and set to work. His hands moved over the wound and his lips moved. With each pass of his hands, the pus diminished and the wound began to look less inflamed.

“I didn’t know you could do that, Remus.”

“I’ve looked after myself for a long time, Harry. Having some wandless healing spells at my disposal is particularly useful after transformation.”

As Lupin continued with the spells, the door to the room flung open and a guard was pointing his wand at them.

“Let me see your hands,” he ordered.

Lupin and Harry raised their hands. Snape didn’t move.

“Someone’s doing magic in here.”

“That was me,” Lupin said. “Just a bit of wandless healing magic to clean the wound on his neck.”

“You can’t do that. We took your wands.”

“Well, that’s why I was doing wandless magic.”

“You can’t do that. I won’t have it. I want you out of here.”

Harry made to stand and the guard pointed his wand.

“Harry, it’s alright,” Lupin said in an unusually firm tone. “I can deal with this.”

He turned to the guard.

“This man is seriously ill. He needs medical treatment. Since you haven’t given him the treatment he needs, I’m doing it now.”

“You’re not allowed to do magic here.”

“Well, you’re not allowed to execute your prisoners, but that’s effectively what you are doing by denying him treatment. I’m doing you a favour.”

“He’s a Death Eater. Nobody cares.”

Snape’s eyes closed and he turned his head away slightly. Lupin moved his hand down to Snape’s shoulder.

“He’s not a Death Eater. He’s a loyal member of the Order of the Phoenix. This will be established when he goes to trial. If that trial is posthumous because you’ve failed to allow me to treat his injuries… I’m sure you can imagine that won’t be good for you.”

Lupin had a smile on his face, but it wasn’t friendly. He locked eyes with the guard until the guard suddenly turned and left the cell.

“Severus?”

Snape opened his eyes and looked up at Lupin. He blinked, and he looked on the verge of tears.

“We will get you out of here, Severus. Just… just hang in there, okay?”

When he had finished cleaning the wound, Lupin opened a small jar of salve, cast a cleaning spell over one hand, and began to apply the salve gently to Snape’s neck. Snape’s eyes were closed now, crinkling at the corners, and he winced occasionally.

“I’m sorry, Severus. I’ll try to be as gentle as I can, but this may sting a little. It will help the infection though, and it will feel better soon.”

When Lupin had finished applying the salve and bandages, he slipped an arm behind Snape’s shoulders, lifting him to a sitting position.

“How about we get you off this floor and onto a chair.”

Snape was holding his head very stiffly, as if any movement would cause him pain. Lupin lifted Snape carefully, off the filthy floor and onto one of the rickety chairs. Snape tried to hold himself up, as if he didn’t want Lupin supporting him, but he lacked the strength. He slumped in his seat and Lupin summoned another chair, sitting close beside him, holding him so he didn’t fall. Harry crouched in front of him and began to speak.

“Professor, I’ve spoken to the Ministry about your case, about getting to your trial as soon as possible. But you really do need to cooperate with them.”

Snape had a sullen expression on his face.

“Professor? Do you understand? You need to answer their questions.”

“Their questions… are stupid.”

His voice was a half-whisper. He could manage only a few words before drawing a wheezy breath.

“I know it seems like that, but they are just doing their job. You need to answer them.”

“Why?”

Harry sighed.

“Because they are investigating. They need to understand the circumstances. How Albus died.”

“They just ask… stupid questions.”

Harry’s jaw had gone tight as he gritted his teeth, and he was taking slow deliberate breaths.

“Why are they stupid questions?”

“They don’t… make sense.”

“Why not?”

Snape avoided his eyes and mumbled a response.

“Professor, I didn’t catch that.”

“I… I don’t… understand them… They ask me… about things… I can’t remember. I… I get… confused.”

Harry gave Snape a sympathetic look, which Lupin suspected was a mistake. It was unlikely to improve the man’s mood.

“I know you are having trouble with your memory. That’s because of the memories you gave me when you thought you would die. Do you remember me telling you about that?”

“Maybe.”

“But even if you are confused, sir, you do need to be polite. You called one of the aurors a thestral’s arse.”

Snape didn’t respond.

“You really can’t say things like that to them Professor.”

“Well, clearly… I can, Potter,” Snape replied, with a flash of his old self in his eyes, “as you are… telling me that… I did.”

A look of frustration crossed Harry’s face.

“I really am trying to help you, Professor. But you aren’t helping yourself.”

“Who was it,” Lupin asked suddenly.

“What?” Harry replied.

“The auror. Who was it?”

Snape frowned.

“I’m… not sure,” he said.

“Dunkley,” Harry said. “Fitzgibbon Dunkley.”

“Ah, yes,” Lupin responded, a faint smirk on his face. “Dora had to work with him on occasion. I met him a couple of times. He is a thestral’s arse. But it won’t do you any good to tell him that. Not while you are in here awaiting trial.”

Snape glanced up at Lupin. There was the faintest hint of his face relaxing at Lupin’s acknowledgement.

“He also called one of the aurors a plimpy-faced cretin and said that another had less spine than a flobberworm,” Harry added.

“Interesting. I believe he once said the same of me.”

Harry looked slightly confused.

“Less spine than a flobberworm. I believe that’s what he said to Albus when I came to teach at Hogwarts.”

Lupin did not look offended at the insult, in fact he looked slightly amused. He gave Snape’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Do you remember that, Severus? Do you remember when we worked together? We used to play chess sometimes, and drink firewhisky. You made Wolfsbane for me.”

Snape gave a tentative nod.

“I remember,” he replied. “Dressed like.. a tramp but… always… had the best… firewhisky.”

“You had some good insults for me that year, Severus. I used to wonder whether you sat in your rooms preparing them in advance, or whether they were purely spontaneous.”

“Both. You provided… such fine material… to work with.”

Lupin smiled, looking almost wistful for a moment before his tone shifted back to being more matter-of-fact.

“Nonetheless, Severus, not everyone is as thick-skinned as me. You really aren’t helping yourself with the aurors.”

Snape’s face suddenly closed down, the expression hardening to the same angry sneer he had apparently worn most of his life.

“How’s your… wife, Lupin?”

Despite the volume being barely above a whisper, Snape’s voice still hissed with menace. Harry’s eyes widened in shock but the implacable werewolf’s face showed no change in expression as he replied.

“Dead.”

Lupin’s gaze was steady, and it was Snape who looked away first.  



	3. Chapter 3

Harry and Lupin had made little further progress with Snape. He’d refused to speak further and the guards had decided that Harry and Lupin had spent long enough soon after. Snape had been dragged from the room by the guards, trying to walk but mainly stumbling between them. Lupin had watched him go with a tightness in his chest which he assumed was the result of his long recovery in hospital and nothing to do with his complicated feelings for Snape.

They had both left Azkaban troubled. Physically, Snape was in a bad way, and without further treatment, Lupin wondered if he would make it to trial. Mentally, he wasn’t much better. It was encouraging that he could still muster the energy to insult his interrogators, but it showed an alarming lack of self-preservation instinct.

Harry managed to get permission for Lupin to visit a couple of times a week in order to treat Snape’s neck. He saw little progress from one visit to the next – he’d clean and rebandage the wound but by the time he next visited, it would have deteriorated again. He may have been stopping Snape’s condition gettting worse, but he wasn’t recovering.

There was also no evidence of progress in Snape’s behavior. There would be moments where he was almost communicative, but most of the time he just seemed shut down. He avoided Lupin’s eyes and barely spoke.

Then one day, instead of two guards and Snape, a lone guard walked into the interview room to greet Lupin.

“He’s not coming.”

Lupin stared at the guard with a confused look on his face.

“What do you mean, he’s not coming?”

“Mr Snape said that he doesn’t want to see you. He’s refusing to leave his cell. Nothing I can do about it.”

The guard shrugged and turned away.

“Hold on, I’m not happy with that.”

“His choice, he said he doesn’t want to see you or anyone.”

“Actually, it’s not his choice. I have permission to visit in order to provide him with medical treatment. My visits are not at his whim. He’s a sick man and he needs to be looked after.”

The guard looked startled at Lupin’s assertion.

“If you can’t get him to come to the interview room,” Lupin continued, walking up to the guard and giving him an unfriendly smile, “I’d be happy to go to his cell. Remember, I have an authorisation from Kingsley. Harry and I are able to visit to provide medical treatment.”

Lupin’s casual reference to the Acting Minister of Magic and the Boy-Who-Lived by their first names had the desired effect.

“Er… wait here and I’ll… um…”

The flustered guard turned and left. He returned a few minutes and mumbled for Lupin to follow him.

Snape lay on a grimy mattress with his back to the cell door. That alone would have told Lupin that his condition was dire. The back of his grey prison shirt was dark with sweat. The room smelled of filth and sickness. Lupin crouched beside him.

“Severus?”

“Go… away.”

The effort of speaking set off a fit of coughing. Lupin steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. He felt Snape’s forehead with his other hand. Burning. The coughing subsided and Snape’s breathing returned to the rattling gasps it had been before he’d attempted to speak.

“Severus, you’re ill.”

Snape made no attempt to comment on Lupin’s statement of the obvious. He really was in a bad way. Lupin stood and turned to the guard.

“This man is seriously ill. He needs to be in St Mungo’s.”

“They don’t take Azkaban prisoners. He stays here.”

“Well, don’t you have a prison infirmary? Healers? Could a St Mungo’s healer visit here?”

The guard shook his head.

“What happens when a prisoner gets sick then?”

Lupin’s voice had dropped in volume, as if he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer.

“They get better,” the guard said. “Or they die.”

There was the faintest sign of discomfort in the guard’s expression, and Lupin decided to attack that chink in his armour.

“You do realise that this man has not yet been tried? That there is significant evidence to indicate he was not a Death Eater but a spy acting under the orders of Albus Dumbledore.”

“He killed Albus Dumbledore.”

“Yes he did. At Dumbledore’s request, because he was dying, and because he needed his spy’s position secure. He committed the act, but it was not murder.”

“Euthanasia then, it’s still a crime.”

“What about denying a sick man medical treatment? A man who repeatedly risked his life to ensure the defeat of Voldemort.”

The guard flinched and Lupin kept up the pressure.

“Wouldn’t that be a crime? To just let him die. And then the world will hear what he did and know that you allowed his suffering.”

The guard turned away, then stepped closer to Lupin.

“Sometimes,” he murmured, “they have allowed a relative to care for a sick prisoner. Requires ministerial authorisation, but then… you’ll have no trouble with that, will you? Just don’t… say how you found out it could be permitted. They try and make sure nobody knows about that particular rule.”

Lupin wondered who they were, but didn’t ask. He turned back to Snape, crouching back beside him. 

“Severus, I’ll do what I can to make you comfortable now, then I’ll go. But I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Snape didn’t respond, so Lupin began his routine of treating the neck wound. Pain potion, undo the bandages, wandlessly clean the wound – the guards had begun turning a blind eye – gently smooth on the salve, rebandage the wound, nutritive potion. Normally the guards would watch them carefully and take Snape away as soon as the treatment was finished, but here, in the squalid cell, the guard was standing outside and ignoring them. Lupin took off his cardigan and tucked it under Snape’s head to try and make him more comfortable.

He wasn’t sure what else he could do. He tried his limited wandless cleaning spells, but Snape was too filthy for them to have much effect. There was a tray with water and grey mush which he assumed was a meal, but even if the food had been appealing, he doubted Snape would have eaten. He barely took a few sips of water. There were no sheets, just the thin mattress and a stained blanket. The blanket was no use when he was so feverish but Lupin left it beside him in case he got cold. When he had finished his ineffectual fussing, he rested his hand on Snape’s shoulder again.

“I’ll go now, Severus, but I will be back as soon as I can.”

Snape responded with more of the convulsive coughing and Lupin left, half-wondering whether he would still be alive when he returned.


	4. Chapter 4

The guards seemed to take forever to search his bags. What they confiscated and what they left seemed arbitrary – the pillows were not allowed but the flannels were, the fever relief potions were not, the cough relief potions were, the towels were not, the pyjamas were, the sleeping draught was not but the eucalyptus salve was, the custard was not, the chicken soup was. His wand of course, was not permitted. Shacklebolt had made that clear – not even the Acting Minister of Magic could authorise for Lupin to take his wand into Azkaban – but Lupin had expected that. His copy of The Home Healer was not permitted, but his small guide to healing spells – complete with annotations for which ones could be adapted to wandless use – was allowed.

Shacklebolt had seemed rather startled to find an irate Lupin outside his office, demanding admittance. Lupin had not taken kindly to the brush-offs and refusals, the excuses that the Minister was too busy or the pointed comments about werewolves with ideas above their station. In the end, the raised voices outside his office had drawn Shacklebolt’s attention. He’d had the decency to be concerned at the prospect of Snape dying in Azkaban before his trial, and had signed a letter to permit Snape’s “cousin” to care for him during his illness. Lupin suspected that he was about as closely related to Snape as he was to Shacklebolt, but the Acting Minister had rolled his eyes and made a reference to inbreeding in English wizards.

“If you’re not related somehow, I’d be extremely surprised,” he’d said, signing his extravagant signature at the bottom of the letter.

Snape hadn’t moved since Lupin had left him some hours before. He was awake but refused to respond, his breathing laboured, his cheeks flushed with fever and his skin damp with sweat. Lupin quietly began to arrange his supplies, uncertain of where to start and feeling overwhelmed by his task. He was used to taking care of himself, but caring for a seriously ill man who should have been in hospital was something else entirely.

In the end, the oppressive smell of the cell decided him.

“Guard?” he called softly from the door of the cell. He was now locked in.

The half-sympathetic guard from earlier appeared swiftly.

“Is there any chance of emptying this bucket?”

He gestured to the battered metal pail which evidently served as a toilet. It was nearly full and was responsible for the worst of the odour in the cell. His wandless Evanesco certainly wouldn’t be up to the task.

“I’ll have to ask. It’s not quite at the mark where they get emptied.”

The guard had the decency to look guilty.

Lupin took a closer look at the bucket, noting a black mark just below the rim. He let out a frustrated breath and unzipped his trousers. The two cups of tea that Shacklebolt had made him drink to calm himself down proved sufficient to reach the mark, and the contents of the bucket immediately vanished.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance of getting a fresh mattress? He’s clearly been unable to get up and use the bucket for a couple of days. The mattress is damp and filthy.”

“It’s his filth, though,” the guard said. “If you got another, there’s no guarantee it would be any cleaner. But I might be able to get you another blanket.”

Lupin had lifted Snape off the mattress and sat him on the cold cell floor. He’d tried turning the mattress over, but that was worse. In the end, he found a barrier charm in his healing spell book that made the blanket impervious and laid that over the mattress. The blanket over the mattress was not particularly clean, but it was a lot cleaner than the sweat- and urine-soaked mattress and the clothing that Snape was wearing.

“Severus, I’m going to remove your prison clothes. They let me bring some pyjamas. I’ll clean you up and change you into those. You’ll feel much better.”

Snape looked up at him blankly, before beginning to cough again. Lupin crouched in front of him and, when the coughing subsided, began to remove the sweaty shirt. It was rather like undressing a very large, floppy doll. Snape didn’t fight him, but he didn’t cooperate either. Once Lupin had the shirt off, he took a flannel and a small bowl of water (the guards had been suspicious of the plastic bowls but had permitted the metal bowls for some reason) and began to gently wash Snape’s body. Without soap (not permitted), the washing didn’t have much effect on the grime, but it might have helped the burning fever.

Snape was silent throughout the washing, but protested when Lupin attempted to dress him in the pyjama top.

“No,” he whimpered. “Hot. Too hot.”

“Alright, Severus,” Lupin replied, picking up a clean flannel, dipping it in that water and cooling his face with it. “Is that better?”

Snape whimpered again as Lupin moved the flannel away.

“I’m going to take your trousers off now, Severus.”

Lupin gently lowered Snape’s upper body so it lay across the mattress. He unknotted the drawstring then peeled the damp trousers down over Snape’s bony hips. He’d thought the upper body, with every rib and vertebra starkly visible, looked bad, but the lower body was worse. It wasn’t just the caved-in look of his belly and the wasted muscles of his buttocks and thighs. The skin was red and raw from the days he’d lain in his own urine, unable to move. Snape tried to pull away as Lupin began to gently wash him, but Lupin didn’t flinch from his task.

“Severus, it’s nothing I haven’t seen or touched before. I know it stings, but this will make it feel better.”

He dribbled cool water over the inflamed skin, then carefully dried it away. Then he lifted Snape fully onto the mattress and slipped the pyjama pants onto him.

As soon as Snape was lying flat on the mattress again, the coughing intensified. Lupin cursed the guards who had denied him the pillows and slid an arm behind Snape’s back, lifting him again. The breathing was definitely easier and the coughing less when he was not lying flat.

Lupin tried leaning Snape up against the wall and propping up the mattress in various ways, but in the end, he simply piled his supplies within reach of a wandless Accio, sat himself down at the head of the mattress, and leaned Snape up against his body. He summoned the cough potion and dribbled it into Snape’s mouth, bit by bit. When the vial of potion was gone, he exchanged it for the eucalyptus salve.

“This will help you breath more easily,” he said. “I’m going to rub it over your chest.”

He cast a cooling charm over the salve to try and lower the fever, and began to smooth it over Snape’s bony chest. He rubbed the skin above the nipples, moving out to the shoulders but avoiding the area above the prominent collarbones so that the salve didn’t contaminate the bandage over the neck wound.

“Does that help, Severus?”

Snape’s eyes had closed but the corners weren’t showing the tell-tale crinkling they did when he was in pain. He kept up the rhythmic motion, murmuring meaningless words of comfort as he did so. Eventually, he noticed the muscles in Snape’s face relax and the breathing become more even. Snape was asleep.

Snape’s peace didn’t last. He began to cry out and struggle in his sleep, haunted by a nightmare.

“Severus, shh, it’s alright.”

“No… no…”

The effort of speaking set off the coughing again. It was definitely less than it had been but enough to wake him.

“Severus, it’s alright, you were having a nightmare.”

The dark eyes opened and looked up at him. Snape was frowning in confusion, and he tried to push himself away from Lupin.

“Hello, Severus. They’ve given me permission to stay in here and look after you while you are ill.”

The frown intensified. Snape began to struggle, crying “no” and thrashing his arms about, although he was too weak to do much harm. Then his hand came into contact with Lupin’s discarded cardigan, the one that Lupin had left under his head as a pillow earlier. Claw-like fingers closed around the worn wool and he clutched it to his face and chest. He calmed down immediately and his eyes closed again.

Lupin sighed. He tried a fever-reducing charm wandless and only succeeded in chilling his own hands so cold they felt frost-nipped. Reversing the charm, he sighed and summoned the flannel he had been using to wipe Snape’s face. He dipped it in water before he smoothing it over his face. He hoped it would be enough.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a long day and an even longer night. The semi-delerious Snape would manage maybe half an hour of sleep before nightmares or coughing woke him. He would appear to have no idea who Lupin was, and would panic unless he was cuddling the cardigan, which was now damp with his sweat. Lupin cooled his face and chest with the flannel, administered the cough potion, applied the eucalyptus salve, gave him sips of water and attempted to soothe his fears. He failed to get him to accept any of the soup.

In the late afternoon, a guard had delivered Snape’s dinner, the same grey mush that had been served for breakfast. Lupin had left the soup under a preservation charm – hoping that Snape would eventually drink some – and ate the mush himself. It was vile, but not the vilest thing Lupin had eaten.

A couple of times in the night, Snape’s nightmares worsened to the point where he was nearly screaming. His cries roused some of the other prisoners, who begain shouting at him to shut up. Eventually a guard came – the first time he yelled and banged loudly on the bars of the cell door until Snape was cowering in terror. The second time, he simply threw a bucket of water over them both.

Lupin eventually fell asleep, damp and freezing cold except where Snape’s fevered body lay against him.

When he woke again, it was early morning. Snape was shivering and apparently trying to climb into Lupin’s lap, desperate for warmth.

“Cold,” he whimpered. “Too cold.”

Lupin felt his forehead. Cool. The fever had broken – perhaps the bucket of water had done the trick. His breathing was easier too. He didn’t sound like he was in imminent danger of dying anymore.

“Severus? I’ve got a pyjama top for you. You will feel warmer when you have that on.

He summoned the top and this time Snape didn’t complain when he slipped his arms into the sleeves and buttoned it up.

“Do you think you could drink some soup?”

Snape didn’t answer, but Lupin summoned a cupful of the soup and warmed it with one of his better wandless spells. He held the cup to Snape’s lips and this time he didn’t refuse. He didn’t drink much, but it was enough to warm him a little and reassure Lupin that he was definitely recovering.

Lupin was cold and his muscles ached after the uncomfortable night. He lifted Snape off his legs then laid him flat, hoping that his breathing had improved enough for him to lie down without discomfort. Lupin picked up the spare blanket the guard had left for him and tucked it around Snape’s body. There was a small moment of panic when Snape couldn’t find the cardigan, but once that was back in his arms, he settled and feel asleep.

Lupin got to his feet and walked gingerly over to the the bucket to relieve himself. He felt stiff and sore in his body but his mind was calmer, grateful that he’d been able to stay with Snape and that he seemed to be recovering. When he was finished with the bucket, he sat down on the cold stones, before thinking better of it and perching on the edge of the mattress beside Snape. He looked down at the pale face, the nose that looked bigger than ever between hollow cheeks, the sunken eyes, the cracked lips. Snape’s hair looked greasier than ever too, although that was mostly sweat after the hours of fever. Snape looked dirty and ugly and broken, and yet somehow Lupin felt himself drawn to that face as much as he ever had been.

His thoughts were interrupted by the guard bringing breakfast. It was the sympathetic guard again.

“How is he, then?”

“A little better, he’s sleeping right now. Fever’s broken.”

The guard nodded and slid the tray under the door.

“Are you eating that or him?”

“I am. They let me bring chicken soup for him.”

“I can… I can see if I can get you more food. It won’t be anything better but… I think I can get you a larger portion.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind. I appreciate it.”

The guard nodded again and moved on.

The mush was worse than it had been the day before. Lupin suspected that they made it once a day, serving it fresh in the evening and then the congealed leftovers, cold, in the morning. He tried heating it with the same charm he used on the soup, and that made it more tolerable.

It was some hours before Snape woke. He was still confused, but this time he was confused by the fact that he was now sharing a cell, and a mattress, with Remus Lupin, rather than the general confusion of delerium.

“Lupin?”

The effort of speaking was still followed by coughing, but much less.

“Hello, Severus, you’re awake.”

There was the faintest roll of his eyes at Lupin’s comment. Lupin smiled.

“You are feeling better, aren’t you, Severus.”

Snape glanced around the room.

“Why… why are you here, Lupin?”

The voice was still weak and hoarse, the breathing still a little laboured.

“I’ve been looking after you, Severus, while you’ve been ill. If anyone asks, I’m your cousin.”

Snape had nothing to say to that.

“Would you like some chicken soup?”

Snape’s eyes flicked over to the empty tray that had contained the mush.

“I’m afraid I ate your breakfast. I hope you weren’t looking forward to it.”

That brought the faintest twitch of a smile to Snape’s lips.

“Soup?” he said.

“I brought you some. They let me bring a few things to help care for you. I’ve got chicken soup. But they confiscated the custard.”

“Bastards.”

Lupin lifted Snape so that he was upright enough to drink the soup. He was too weak to hold either a mug or a spoon, so Lupin held a mug of warm soup to his lips while he sipped it.

“Sorry, Lupin.”

“What are you sorry for, Severus?”

“For being so… useless.”

“Severus, you’re ill. That’s hardly your fault, and nothing you need to apologise for.”

Snape went silent, sipping more of the soup. He avoided Lupin’s gaze. After he had drunk half of the cup, he refused any more and dropped his head, looking uncomfortable.

“Severus? Are you alright?”

Snape paused for some time before mumbling something Lupin couldn’t hear.

“What was that, Severus?”

He repeated the mumble.

“I’m sorry, I still can’t understand what you are saying.”

Lupin leaned his head closer and suddenly saw what Snape was looking at. The bucket.

‘Severus, do you need the toilet?”

Snape dropped his head, his face scarlet.

“I can’t… I can’t… walk over there.“

“Severus, it’s alright.”

Quietly, Lupin summoned a battered metal bowl and helped Snape sit on the side of the mattress to use it. He kept his actions slow and deliberate, saying nothing, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Snape’s head hung and his face flamed with humiliation and Lupin didn’t want to make it worse.

The effort seemed to exhaust Snape and he was alseep almost before Lupin had laid him flat again. He was exhausted enough that Lupin could apply the eucalyptus salve and change the bandages on his neck without waking him. Then, after a long night with very little sleep himself, Lupin lay down on the mattress beside Snape and slept.


	6. Chapter 6

Lupin had been in the cell for four days before the aurors came.

“Remus Lupin? Fancy seeing a nice chap like you here. You haven’t been arrested have you? I thought everyone was all tally-ho, jolly good show old boy over the werewolf who came back from a killing curse. Rotten bad luck about your wife, by the way. Fine girl. Magnificent arse. Quite marvellous.”

“Hello Fitzgibbon,” Lupin said warily.

Dunkley gave the impression he was an unfortunate product of inbreeding in both pureblood wizardry and muggle aristocracy. That might have been true, but he was not the fool he appeared and had a nasty streak. Accompanying him were two other wizards that Lupin didn’t know. The younger one, in auror’s robes, may have been the one that Snape had called the “plimpy-faced cretin”.

It was the older wizard that worried Lupin. He wore a plain and rather tatty robe which didn’t quite fit his dumpy frame. His hair was grey and thinning, combed over his scalp, and he wore unfashionable glasses which sat crookedly on his nose. Everything about his appearance seemed to say – in an apologetic tone – “oh, don’t worry about me, I’m not even worth thinking about, completely harmless”. After a lifetime playing that role himself, Lupin wasn’t fooled.

If nothing else had given him away, Lupin would have known by the body language of the other wizards, the way they kept their distance, the way they turned their bodies away slightly, the way they wouldn’t meet his eye. They were afraid of him. And if the aurors were afraid…

Snape was staring at the man, wide-eyed.

“Who is that?” Lupin whispered to him.

Snape didn’t respond, still staring. Lupin noticed that his hands were clenched tightly around the cardigan.

The guard unlocked the cell door and gestured to Snape to come out.

“He can’t walk,” Lupin said, standing between Snape and the cell door. “He’s ill. You can’t question him when he’s sick like this.”

“Oh yes we can, Remus,” Dunkley said. “Queerly enough, it appears that aurors have the right to decide which prisoners they question, and when, whatever their… cousins might say. And we would damn well like to talk to Snape. This pathetic piece of Death Eater scum has been dashed uncooperative so far and we have brought… “

Dunkley glanced at the older wizard.

“… reinforcements.”

Snape had been dragged away, despite Lupin’s protests. Now Lupin was alone in the cell, which the guards had locked again. He occupied himself by rearranging the food supplies. Harry had responded to the hasty owl Lupin had sent prior to joining Snape in Azkaban and had visited a couple of times with additional food. He’d had rather more success than Lupin, and the coveted custard, as well as chicken soup and grapes, had been permitted.

Finding there were only so many ways to arrange two bunches of grapes, Lupin then turned to the only other activity available to him – worrying. Snape was definitely recovering, but he was apathetic and seemed depressed. The neck wound had improved slightly with daily treatment, but was still slow to heal. After his illness, which Lupin suspected had been pneumonia, Snape was still weak and needed help to even walk across the cell. His breathing was much improved, but in the early hours of the morning when the cell was at its coldest, the icy air still triggered violent coughing fits.

The coughing was not the only thing that troubled Snape through the night. Lupin would frequently wake to find Snape crying out in fear at whatever terror his dreams had brought. Occasionally Lupin would manage to settle him, but usually Snape would wake in panic, clinging to Lupin, sobbing, clutching desperately at his robe and curling in as close as he could to the werewolf for comfort.

The would never speak of it in the morning. They spoke of very little, in fact. Not the final battle, not the Order, not the death of Albus Dumbledore, not Lupin’s marriage, nor his son, not the times they had spent together, the year they had both taught at Hogwarts, not their schooldays. The things that they didn’t say were as many and heavy as the stones that had built the prison walls.

With no way of measuring time, Lupin didn’t know how long Snape had been gone. But it was a long time before they finally brought the former spy back and threw him onto the cell floor in front of Lupin. There was a horrible dead look in his eyes and he gave Lupin no ackowledgement. The older wizard, on the other hand, gave Lupin a knowing and rather predatory smile. He put his fingers to his glasses and slid them down his nose slightly, looking at Lupin over the top. Lupin felt pressure on the edge of his mind, and his insides went cold.

Leglimency. The wizard was a leglimens. That was why he was there, that was why the aurors were afraid of him.

“Severus?”

When the aurors had gone, Lupin leaned towards Snape and lightly touched his shoulder. Snape gave a start, then suddenly pulled himself up to his hands and knees, and crawled across the cell floor. His back arched as he vomited into the bucket. Lupin crouched beside him, steadying him, pulling back the hair that had fallen into the filth.

“It’s alright, Severus.”

Snape continued to retch long after his stomach had expelled its meagre contents. He was shaking violently, and Lupin leaned against him, supporting Snape against his body so that he didn’t collapse. When Snape had finally finished heaving, he pulled away from Lupin, crawling across the cell again and collapsing on the mattress. After a moment, he reached out for the cardigan and pulled it to his face. Then, silently, he began to weep.

“Shh, now, shh, it’s alright.”

Lupin slid behind him on the mattress as he often did after the nightmares and wrapped one arm around his waist.

“I’m here, Severus, it’s alright.”

He lay there, holding Snape, whispering to him, while the silent weeping went on and on.


	7. Chapter 7

“I really can’t understand it, Remus. I know Harry’s got some crazy story that he was acting on Dumbledore’s orders and on the side of light all along, but to stay for a week in Azkaban to look after him? That’s just mad, that is.”

Molly Weasley was giving Lupin a concerned look, as if he had lost his mind and needed assistance finding it.

Lupin shifted his feet uncomfortably. He’d only agreed to come to the Burrow because the Weasleys had – somehow – convinced Andromeda Tonks to stop by briefly with Teddy, so that his father and godfather could see him. He had the blue-haired baby in his arms, and wanted nothing more than for the whole world to vanish and leave him alone with his son. But all anyone could do was talk about Snape.

The visit of the leglimens, traumatic as it had been, had apparently convinced the aurors that Snape’s memory problems were genuine, and they’d agreed to have his trial as soon as possible. The trial was starting tomorrow, and a debate was in full swing. Hermione agreed with Harry that Snape would be exonerated, while Ron, George and Bill were still convinced Snape was a true Death Eater. Arthur appeared to be in the middle, although Molly was siding with her sons. Fleur had sided with Harry and Hermione, almost certainly to be on the opposite side from Molly.

Andromeda had given no opinion on the subject. She looked dreadful – as if she’d aged twenty years since Remus had seen her last. But to his surprise, she’d walked up and hugged him, then passed him Teddy. She hovered nearby, watching as if he was likely to drop him, and Lupin felt distinctly uncomfortable being questioned about his former lover while his mother-in-law stood right beside him.

“Well, I think it’s very noble of Remus to help Professor Snape,” Hermione said. “Did you know that Azkaban prisoners are denied any medical treatment, Ron? That the only possibility they have for help is if a relative will actually stay in the cell with them? It’s appalling. I’ve already written to the Ministry to complain. Professor Snape would have died and never had a chance for a trial without Remus’s help.”

“Why should we care?” Ron replied in a sullen tone. “He’s a traitor. And he’s a horrible greasy git.”

“He’s not,” Harry shouted, while Lupin flinched and turned Teddy away from the developing row.

“Well, it’s still very odd for you to stay at Azkaban with him, Remus,” Arthur said in a calm voice, clearly hoping to settle the conversation before it became too heated. “Most odd. Even if Harry’s right, he’s still… well… Snape.”

“And you’re hardly recovered yourself, Remus,” Molly added. “You need to look after your health. For Teddy. “

Molly gave Andromeda a brief glare.

“You shouldn’t have risked getting ill again,” Molly continued. “Not for someone like Snape.”

“Evil bastard that he is,” Ron added, unhelpfully.

Lupin took a deep breath. He’d been doing this most of his life, trying to tune out the way that Snape was viewed and treated by others. He’d condoned the bullying, watching his friends torment the young Snape without consequence. Later he’d offered the hand of friendship then let Snape down. Finally, when Snape had been at his most alone and Lupin was the most likely one to guess Snape hadn’t turned on the Order, Lupin had believed the worst of him. And had married Tonks.

It was time for him to stand up for Snape. Too little, too late, but he still had to do it.

“Actually, I do think it was very much worth it, looking after Severus,” Lupin said, in a tone which had more edge than usual. “You see, I had a relationship with him for a while, before Dora and I were married. Obviously that’s in the past now, but I still care about him. Very much.”

There was a sudden, stunned silence in the room. Lupin looked around at the faces. Andromeda’s remained impassive, but she was the only one. From the looks of utter horror on the faces of Arthur and Molly, he wouldn’t be receiving a return invitation to the Burrow anytime soon. Fleur and Bill refused to meet his eye. Ron was gaping in shock, and Hermione was almost matching him in expression.

“Remus,” Andromeda said slowly, as if he’d lost his mind, which perhaps he had. “I think that maybe we should talk with less of an audience.”

Lupin nodded and looked down at his son. He’d done it finally. Admitted the truth. And it didn’t make him feel any better. Would he ever be able to see his son again? What had he been thinking? Now, everyone would hate him. 

Not Harry, though. He didn’t look disgusted or horrified. He didn’t look surprised at all. He looked, if anything, almost smug.

“You go with Andromeda, Remus,” Harry said “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

He stepped forward and patted Lupin on the arm.

“Good on you, Remus,” he said softly.

Lupin gave him a puzzled look, and Harry smirked.

“Professor Snape gave me his memories, remember?” Harry added.

Lupin blushed scarlet and turned to face Andromeda. He had a horrible feeling that he had just ruined his life by finally admitting to the truth, but at least Harry was on his side.

They had apparated to Andromeda’s house and, after putting Teddy to bed, she’d wasted no time in summoning a bottle of firewhisky.

“I need a drink, Remus, will you join me?”

Lupin nodded, uncertain how else to respond. Andromeda poured an alarming quantity of firewhisky into two glasses and handed one to Lupin. As she raised her glass to her lips, a house elf appeared, her arms folded and lips pressed together in disapproval. She gave Andromeda a glare, then turned towards Lupin and gave him equally disapproving look.

“Oh,” she said, “Mistress is having company.”

The elf returned the whisky bottle to the cupboard before leaving the room.

Andromeda settled herself in her chair and swallowed another mouthful. For too long, she said nothing, and Lupin suddenly felt he had to fill the silence.

“You can’t take him away from me,” he blurted. “He’s my son.”

Andromeda gave another sigh.

“I’m not going to do that Remus. I’m sorry I haven’t allowed you to see him up until now. I got rather caught up in my own grief and didn’t think about what was best for my grandson.”

She gave him a sad smile and he stared back, uncertain what to make of her comments.

“Narcissa finally talked some sense into me,” she added.

“She did?”

Lupin found it hard to imagine Narcissa talking sense into anyone, let alone the sister she held in obvious contempt.

“Indeed. She congratulated me on having finally rid myself of the appalling company I used to keep – Ted’s muggle relatives, Dora’s muggle-loving associates in the Order and especially Dora’s half-blood werewolf husband. Now, she told me, she could help me to bring Teddy up like a proper wizard.”

Andromeda made a face, as if she had eating something bitter.

“She also sent a house-elf to supervise me.”

Lupin noticed that half the firewhisky in Andromeda’s glass had already been drunk. He’d barely managed a mouthful.

“There’s no way I’d want Teddy to have the kind of horrible, pureblood childhood that Narcissa has in mind for him. I realised that I was… I wasn’t coping very well, and that I’d cut myself from all the good people I’d had in my life when Ted and Dora…”

She paused, pressing her lips together. Lupin saw her eyes fill with tears.

“When Ted and Dora were with me.”

Lupin looked down, then turned it into a nod. He wasn’t sure whether Andromeda would accept his comfort, even though a part of him thought she clearly needed a hug. Then he thought about what she had just said. She was sorry. She didn’t want to take Teddy from him.

He stood and walked over to her.

“Andromeda. I’m so sorry about Ted and…”

His voice cracked slightly. He did care about her and there had been many things he admired.

“And Dora.”

He hugged Andromeda, and stayed hugging her for a long time as she wept on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Remus,” she said, composing herself. She gave another sad smile. “You know, I always liked you.”

Lupin’s disbelief must have shown on his face.

“I did, Remus. So did Ted. But he was also quite sure you were, um… well, he was right obviously.”

Lupin went red and looked down.

“Ted was muggle born, remember? He still kept one foot in that life and he was a lot more wordly and sensible than the average wizard. And one of his nephews is… gay, that’s the term he uses. Obviously, we didn’t want someone who was gay marrying our daughter, but we… oh, unless you went both ways. Bisexual, I think Ted said.”

He had thought it wasn’t possible to go any redder, but he was wrong. Lupin shook his head.

“No,” he mumbled, staring at the carpet. It was was worn and looked like Dumbledore had chosen it.

“I’m not judging you, Remus,” Andromeda said gently. “You’re a good person. You let yourself get pushed around, obviously, but…”

She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly.

“After tonight, it appears that you might have finally grown a spine.”


	8. Chapter 8

As he walked across the atrium holding Snape’s arm, Lupin felt as if every pair of eyes in the Ministry was on him. It wasn’t intended as a public display of affection or announcement of a relationship, it was simply that Lupin wasn’t sure that Snape would make it to the apparation point without falling. As it was, he stumbled frequently, and Lupin slowed his walk to try and make it easier. Snape had suffered enough humiliation during the weeks of his trial. Adding to that by collapsing in the atrium of the Ministry was the last then he needed.

They arrived with a loud crack on the path to a door of a rather ugly farmhouse. The door was dark brown with patterned yellow glass. Lupin took a step towards it, but Snape didn’t budge. The apparation was apparently the last straw for him and his legs finally gave way. He sank to the ground and was sick over Lupin’s shoes.

“I’m sorry, Severus, that was a bit of a jolt, wasn’t it.”

Lupin rubbed his back gently and then, when Snape appeared to be finished, helped him to his feet. He discreetly vanished the vomit.

“Let’s get you inside. You probably feel like lying down for a bit, you look tired.”

That was something of an understatement. Lupin hadn’t seen Snape up close since he’d cared for him in Azkaban during his illness. After that, his neck had been deemed healed enough that he no longer required Lupin’s visits. Lupin had seen him during the trial, but only at a distance.

Now he could examine him closely, Lupin was alarmed. He was desperately thin, his eyes hollow and dull, skin almost grey, hair even more lank than usual, fingernails cracked and broken. Lupin could feel him tremble, perhaps from cold as his fingers were icy, or perhaps from the effort of trying to walk. Lupin slipped his arm around Snape’s waist and lifted Snape’s arm across his shoulders so that he didn’t fall again. Snape was clearly trying to walk, but lacked the strength to do much more than lean against Lupin.

“What is this place?” Snape asked.

“My house, Severus. I’ve been living here a couple of weeks. It’s a bit rough, but it does the job. Andromeda lives in the other half.”

Lupin nodded towards an identical second door on the other side of a low fence.

“You are cohabiting with your mother-in-law?”

Weak as he was, Snape still managed to convey surprised scorn in his voice.

“It’s not cohabiting, the house is in two flats.”

In fact, Lupin had been as surprised as Snape when Andromeda had suggested they share care of Teddy. But it made sense. Lupin couldn’t cope on his own and, clearly, neither could Andromeda. Teddy needed them both.

The farmhouse that Lupin shared with his mother-in-law had been converted into flats more than fifteen years ago and had been rented to a series of increasingly disreputable tenants. While the flats were run-down and filthy, they were isolated and cheap, and the landlord was unlikely to pay them much attention. Intensive spellwork and hard scrubbing had made the flats reasonably pleasant inside. At least they were far from the worst place Lupin had lived in. He’d set the second bedroom up for Snape, changing the yellow and brown wallpaper to an innocuous cream, and putting a green cover on the bed. Snape paid the décor of the room no attention, lying on the bed and closing his eyes.

“I’ll let you sleep if that’s what you need, Severus, but there’s some soup if you are hungry.”

Snape shook his head slightly.

“Lupin, why am I here?”

“What do you mean, Severus?”

“Why can’t I just go home to Spinner’s End?”

Lupin sighed.

“I’m afraid… after the war ended, some… they were students… from Hogwarts… The house was destroyed. I’m so sorry, Severus.”

Lupin sat down on the edge of the bed, his hip against Snape’s back. He rested his hand on Snape’s arm.

“I know you’d probably prefer your own space right now, but you aren’t well, and you need someone to look after you. You can stay here as long as you need to, to get yourself back on your feet.”

Against his hip and under his hand, Lupin could feel Snape trembling.

“Harry will be by a bit later. He will bring your memories, as well as your things which were at Hogwarts. Everything you had there was saved – the aurors had it all but Harry’s got them to give it back. You’ll feel better then, when you have some of your things around you. And your memories. Things will make more sense then.”

Lupin suppressed the urge he had to kiss Snape on the forehead and left him to rest.

By the time Harry arrived, Snape had eaten some soup and a bit of toast, but had said almost nothing.

“Hello, Professor.”

“Potter.”

“I’ve brought your things from Hogwarts, sir. And your memories.”

Snape nodded and looked at the floor. Harry brought a number of shrunken boxes from his pocket and restored them to their normal size. Snape ignored them.

“Would you like the memories now, sir?”

Harry stood beside Dumbledore’s pensieve. Snape walked over to it and looked down at the pool of silver.

“I don’t think my wand will work,” he mumbled.

Snape had been released from Azkaban, but had still been convicted of unlawful killing over Dumbledore’s death. He was under close monitoring, with the threat of prison hanging over him for the slightest mis-step. No broom, no floo, no unaccompanied apparation. And he’d been issued with a wand which limited him to the most basic of domestic spells.

“I can do it, sir.”

“You’ve seen them, haven’t you, Potter.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Grainger and Weasley?”

Harry paused, pressing his lips together.

“Some of them. Not everything.”

Harry glanced across at Lupin and blushed scarlet.

“Go on, then,” Snape said, leaning close to the pensieve and closing his eyes. His hands rested flat on the table, one either side of the pensieve.

Harry touched his wand to the surface of the liquid then raised the wand, a silvery thread hanging from it. He then touched the wand to Snape’s temple. Harry moved his wand away and the thread stayed, then began to tremble as the memories moved from the bowl to Snape’s head. The silver pool began to shrink.

At first Snape was silent and unmoving, but then Lupin noticed the tension creep into his hands. His fingers curled and his nails began to press into the tabletop. His breathing became faster and louder until it was coming in desperate gasps. His body began to shake.

Lupin stepped close to him.

“Severus?”

“Don’t,” Snape hissed in reply.

Lupin moved back.

When the silver thread disappeared, Snape pushed himself upright. His eyes were wide, the pupils dilated. He looked drugged and confused. He stepped back from the table and looked around the room. Then the colour drained from his face and he sank to the floor in a faint.


	9. Chapter 9

“Why is Potter being nice to me?”

The look on Snape’s face indicated that he was genuinely mystified.

“He’s concerned about you, Severus.”

“But why? I was always awful to him and he loathed me.”

Lupin looked across at Snape. He was propped up on his bed, a pillow behind his back. After he had fainted, Harry had been distraught, and Snape had regained consciousness to the sight of Harry’s slightly tearful green eyes. It hadn’t been helpful, and Lupin had sent him over to Andromeda’s for a cup of tea and a cuddle with Teddy.

“I think… when you gave him the memories… it gave him a link to his mother that he’d never had. And realising that you’d been looking out for him, had saved his life… and that you loved his mother…”

“He’s gone completely off track there, I was never in love with her.”

Lupin pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows.

“Apparently you told your mother you planned to marry her.”

Snape scowled.

“I was nine. Lily was my best friend. And even then I knew not to tell my mother I had a crush on Brendan O’Leary who went to Dad’s church and sat there singing hymns like an angel with his parents and thousands of brothers and sisters and then used to steal chocolate from the shop and sometimes gave me a bit.”

The memory brought a smile to his face, finally, and Lupin relaxed a bit.

“You might have been wiser than me. My mother made some comment about when I got married when I was older and I asked if I had to marry a girl or if it would be alright if I married a boy.”

“She didn’t react well, I take it.”

“Washed my mouth out with soap,” Lupin said lightly, although his eyes suggested it had hurt more than he wanted to let on. “She made it clear that I was never to say such a thing again. Especially not to my father. Wanting to marry a boy was up there with being a werewolf in terms of _things we never talk about_.”

Lupin felt Snape’s eyes on him and went red. He hadn’t intended to let that out. They’d never had the kind of relationship where they talked about… well, anything really. In the year Lupin had taught at Hogwarts they’d chatted inconsequentially over games of chess and glasses of firewhisky. Later, there had been what Lupin described publicly as a “relationship”, but what was it in reality? Mostly just sex and clinging to eachother out of loneliness and desperation. And still, Lupin missed that intimacy. He knew it was all too late, but he still wanted it back.

“Harry cares about you, Severus,” Lupin said, squirming under Snape’s gaze and keen to shift the conversation onto safer ground. “Even if he’s misinterpreted some things. Maybe it’s just best to accept it? Be a bit nicer to him? You’ve got this chance to have a better life now, Severus. You have to take it.”

“I was supposed to die, you know.”

“What?”

“Albus never expected me to live. “We’re neither of us going to make it through this alive,” he’d say.”

Snape’s eyes had become distant.

“Severus,” Lupin said softly, reaching over and placing his hand over Snape’s. “That must have been so hard.”

Snape snatched his hand away.

“I don’t need your pity, Lupin.”

“It’s not pity, Severus. I just know you’ve been through a lot.”

Snape didn’t answer. His face had shut down and he was staring blankly out the window, looking across the valley to the rows of houses in the town below, and the river which wound through the middle. It looked pretty at a distance, but Lupin knew that up close it was rather grim. The river was polluted and the houses much like Snape’s old terrace in Spinner’s End. Lupin wondered whether Snape was thinking about home.

Snape proved to be a frustratingly uncooperative patient. Some days he refused to get out of bed or sit at the dining table for meals, despite clearly being well enough to walk, at least down the stairs to the dining room. Other days, he decided to push himself far beyond his limited endurance, walking too far, trying to get his Ministry-issue wand to work properly and attempting to brew potions in Lupin’s kitchen. Invariably he would end up exhausted and irritable. One morning he’d announced he was walking to the top of the hill behind the house. He’d been gone for hours and then run out of energy on the way back. Lupin had found him well after dark, cold, wet and feeling thoroughly sorry for himself.

He was now in bed with a fever and a cough. Lupin had brought him soup, which he complained was too hot, and toast which he’d picked at then pushed away, looking ill. He began to cough.

“How about just some water, Severus?”

Lupin put an arm around Snape’s shoulders and brought the glass to Snape’s lips. Snape drank, then sat breathing heavily.

“Maybe you’re not quite ready for mountaineering yet. Give yourself a bit longer, maybe?”

Snape scowled.

“You can talk, Lupin. You look bloody awful.”

“Well, you know I’m working on the Hogwarts restoration. That’s hard work. And it’s only three days since the full moon. And Teddy wakes in the night for feeding. And sometimes just wakes, not hungry, just unsettled. He’s had a lot of disruption.”

“Doesn’t Andromeda help?”

“Of course, she’s been quite wonderful. She looks after him while I’m working and is working on the restoration herself when I’m home with Teddy. But he’s my son, Severus. I need to take responsibility.”

Snape gave Lupin a skeptical look.

“Really? That would be a new one for you. I heard you’d walked out on them.”

Lupin looked at the floor.

“I… I did, at one point. But that… it was before he was born. It wasn’t about Teddy.”

“Let me guess, you couldn’t keep up with your young wife. Making demands on you was she? Were you having trouble performing for her?”

Lupin pushed himself up from Snape’s bed, where he had been sitting. He wrapped his arms around himself.

“Severus, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“Hurtful. Trying to provoke me. I thought we’d gone past that. You know, when we…”

“When we what, Lupin?”

Snape’s voice had filled with scorn. He sneered at Lupin.

“Do you mean when we were fucking?” he said in an icy voice.

“It was a lot more than that, Severus. We understood each other. We were there for each other during some very hard times.”

“You may have interpreted things that way, Lupin, but as far as I’m concerned, we were fucking and that’s it. You were a convenient warm body and, I admit, not lacking in skill. It was a useful release when I was under stress.”

Lupin took a step back. He was trying not to let the hurt show on his face, but he was failing.

“Don’t act all wounded, Lupin. You were using me as much as I was using you. And it didn’t take you long to attach yourself to the metamorphmagus when I wasn’t around, did it?”

“Severus, please don’t.”

“Am I hurting your feelings, Lupin?”

Lupin opened his mouth to deny it, but then changed his mind. Snape would know he was lying. Even without leglimency, he had an unerring ability to read whether or not someone was being honest.

“Yes, Severus, yes you are. I’m generally quite thick skinned, but what you say matters to me.”

Snape blinked and Lupin knew he’d surprised him. He decided to go on.

“When you care about someone, you give them the ability to hurt you in ways a casual acquaintance never could. And I think it goes both ways, Severus. I think you’ve given me the ability to hurt you. I think I have hurt you. I think you were hurt when I married Dora.”

“Don’t be absurd, Lupin. I couldn’t have cared less what you were up to with that stupid girl. In case you didn’t notice, I was quite occupied at the time trying to defeat the Dark Lord.”

“She wasn’t stupid, Severus. Don’t be unkind about her. She’s dead, she can’t answer back.”

“She was a fawning, simpering fool.”

“She was a competent auror and very intelligent. She had a wonderful sense of humour and she was kind too. She was kind to you, that day when you were ill at the Order meeting, remember?”

Snape looked away.

“You didn’t love her, though, did you, Lupin? You married her even though you didn’t love her. You weren’t even attracted to her, were you? I don’t believe for a moment that you go both ways. How did you ever get her pregnant? Did you get her to give herself a cock?”

Lupin took another step back. How had Snape twisted the argument to go in that direction? The man had an unerring instinct for prodding at the most painful wounds. And then Lupin had responded before he knew what he was saying.

“Actually, Severus, I closed my eyes and imagined I was with you.”

The look of pain on Snape’s face was briefly satisfying, before common sense overcame Lupin and he felt thoroughly ashamed of himself. Why couldn’t they just stop hurting each other?

Lupin dropped his eyes to the floor, turned and left the room.


	10. Chapter 10

Lupin began to wonder how long he and Snape could continue living in the same house. Things hadn’t improved since the argument they’d had over Dora. He was now taking every opportunity to try and get a reaction out of Lupin, poking, prodding, needling, jabbing. Comments about Dora. Comments about the Marauders. Comments about Harry, who still visited regularly and was attempting to treat Snape like a long-lost parent. Comments about Andromeda and her family, which she obligingly agreed with – disliking the Blacks’ pureblood ways at least as much as Snape.

He tried to be reasonable about it. Snape was a troubled man. He was hurting. He’s been through a lot. But when Teddy, his hair turned long and black, was watching in fascination as Snape berated his father, Lupin realised that it had gone on long enough.

“Severus, stop that right now,” he said, picking up Teddy and turning so the boy was facing away from Snape.

“Stop what, Lupin? Stating the blindingly obvious? Pointing out the truth?”

“Insulting me in front of my son. I’m used to your behaviour, but it is not acceptable to talk that way in front of a child.”

“He’s a baby, Lupin. He doesn’t understand.”

“Babies are sensitive to emotions and they understand a lot more than many people think. I will not have you demonstrating abusive behaviour to him. I will not allow him to grow up learning that it is acceptable to treat others in that way. Nor will I allow anyone to treat him in that way.”

Snape gave a skeptical sneer.

“Really, Lupin. With you as a father, he’s going to learn how to roll over like a whipped puppy. He’ll learn to go along with his friends and fit in with what’s expected of him, whatever his conscience and true feelings are telling him. He’ll grow up to be a coward, Lupin. Weak, ineffectual–”

Lupin disappeared from the kitchen with a sharp crack, appearing in Andromeda’s sitting room.

“Can you mind Teddy, please?” Lupin asked. “I need to deal with Severus.”

Andromeda raised her eyebrows before reaching out for Teddy and giving him a smile.

Lupin apparated back to his kitchen, where Snape still had a slightly satisfied look on his face. He looked annoyed to see Lupin return.

“Thought you’d run off in a panic.”

“No, Severus. I thought it prudent to remove Teddy from the discussion.”

Lupin folded his arms. His voice was deliberately calm. He turned a hard gaze on Snape, who looked away.

“Severus, this is not acceptable.”

“I’m not a student, Lupin, you don’t have to grade me.”

Lupin took a step closer.

“Stop it, Severus. I know you are finding things difficult, but it isn’t okay to take it out on me. And it certainly isn’t acceptable to do so in front of Teddy, Andromeda and Harry.”

Snape shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Lupin leaned closer.

“I had to threaten to hex you once, Severus, to get you to stop bullying Harry and Neville. You came to your senses then. I’m hoping you come to your senses now.”

“Oh, I did what you said, Lupin, and then what? You betrayed me. You were lying about Black all along, and once he was back you just… just… it was just like school, wasn’t it. You did what he said, never mind about me.”

Snape pushed himself upright and was suddenly hissing in Lupin’s face.

“Just like it always was. You never cared enough, did you? I always came second. You just turned the other way when they bullied me. After Sirius tried to get you to kill me, you couldn’t even look at me. Then you acted like you were my friend that year we were teaching, but you never really cared. Then you… you… you offered yourself… and you acted like you cared about me… you… you took care of me…”

Snape’s eyes were wide, the pupils dilated, leaving only a thin edge of dark brown. He blinked and Lupin suddenly realised the dark eyes were filling with tears.

“Severus, please…”

“Don’t,” Snape spat. “Don’t you dare. You pretended… you acted as if… you took care of me and you made me trust you… you made me love you… you… and then you… you married that woman… I loved you and you abandoned me the first chance you got…”

Snape began sobbing now, tears running down his face, arms wrapped around himself, sniffing as his nose began to run.

“Severus, it wasn’t like that. You know it wasn’t.”

Severus drew in a shuddering breath and then sighed. Some of the tension seemed to leave his body. His shoulders slumped and his head dropped forwards.

“But that’s how it felt, Lupin,” he said, sadness in his voice. “That’s how it felt to me. And you had no bloody idea, did you?”

“Oh Severus.”

Then Lupin had Snape in his arms, pulling him close.

“I’m sorry, Severus. I… I had no idea you felt that way. Shh, now.”

As he held Snape close, Lupin thought about his words. Did he really have no idea? That year they had taught together, had he really not seen it? He thought about the way Snape had goaded him when he first arrived, always trying to get his attention, always finding a reason to talk to him, even if it was usually a criticism. Then there was that night where they’d drunk a fair quantity of very expensive firewhisky, played chess and cleared the air. There had been a tentative friendship – well, that was what Lupin had seen. What had it meant to Snape?

When Snape calmed, Lupin spoke.

“Severus, that year we taught, did you, um, have feelings then?”

He pulled his head and shoulders back so he could see Snape’s face, but kept his arms around him. Snape was avoiding his eye, hiding behind his hair.

“I was determined not to. I thought that if you were the same spineless coward you were at school it would be easy. But you weren’t, and it wasn’t.”

“Does that mean you were… had… you know… before I came to Hogwarts that time.”

Snape nodded, still looking at the ground, his face now flaming red.

“Since school. After Sirius… after the Shrieking Shack. It doesn’t make any sense, but… well… there it is.”

“You never said anything.”

Snape gave a slight snort and pulled himself from Lupin’s arms.

“Really. What was I going to say? And what would have happened if I did? You would have laughed at me. And then your friends would have crucified me while you looked on and did nothing.”

Now Lupin looked at the floor.

“I wouldn’t have laughed at you. I didn’t feel the same way then, but I never disliked you.”

“And the rest?”

Lupin sighed.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m so, so sorry. I wish I could change it, I really do. I hate myself for the way I acted then.”

He looked at the ground then lifted his head again.

“But that’s in the past, Severus.”

“Of course it is, Lupin, they’re all dead.”

“That’s not what I meant, Severus. Things are different now. Things between us are different.”

He stepped forward and raised his hand to Snape’s face. Snape didn’t move, neither pulling away nor leaning in to him.

“I don’t know when it happened, Severus, but I feel the same about you now. I’ve missed you so much, and I’m so happy to have this chance with you again.”

Lupin lowered his head to brush Snape’s lips with his. For a moment, Snape went completely still, then he jerked away.

“There is no chance, Lupin,” he said, his voice icy. “It’s all too late. I don’t trust you. I never did and I never will. You’re a coward and can’t ever believe that you will be there when I need you. Whatever we had was… is… over. If it ever existed at all.”

He turned and walked from the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Lupin lay in the dark, ears straining for the sound of his son’s breathing. It was so quiet, he often couldn’t hear it at all and had to get up and check that his chest still rose and fell. Tonight, he could hear the faintest sounds and it reassured him.

He suspected that he was becoming paranoid, needing to check Teddy’s breathing more than a dozen times at night. Sometimes Lupin simply stood or sat beside the bassinet in near darkness for hours. He wondered whether he should mention it to Andromeda. However she was already giving him worried looks and asking him whether he was eating enough. He didn’t want her to conclude he was an unfit father so soon after she had allowed him back into his son’s life.

Snape had been gone for more than a month. He’d pronounced that living with Lupin was intolerable and had moved into Andromeda’s spare room. When that proved too close to Lupin, he had accepted an offer from Harry to stay at Grimmaud Place. He and Harry were yelling at each other on a regular basis, but it appeared he preferred that to facing Lupin. They’d seen each other only once, the night before the full moon, when Lupin had decided to convince Snape to come back. It hadn’t been a good idea, of course. Snape had been unconvinced and Lupin, on edge as always before the full moon, had made a fool of himself, bursting into tears and begging.

Teddy’s breathing went silent and Lupin climbed out of bed. Teddy lay with one arm above his head. His chest still rose and fell. Lupin sat down and watched his son until the light of dawn crept into the room and Teddy opened his eyes.

Harry arrived at breakfast time, a sullen Snape in tow. Lupin, in the middle of making tea one-handed since Teddy was in his other arm, began adding extra tea and water to the pot and got two more cups from the cupboard. Snape scowled at Lupin’s rather forced smile.

“Severus, it’s lovely to see you. Harry, how are you?”

Harry, to Lupin’s eye, looked rather cross.

“Yeah, fine. You?”

“Yes, I’m fine, Harry.”

Even to Lupin’s ears, his response sounded unconvincing.

“And you, Severus, how are you?”

Snape ignored the question, reaching into his robe and bringing out a bottle.

“I brewed this for you.”

He handed the bottle over, avoiding Lupin’s eyes. Lupin raised his eyebrows.

“Thank you, that’s very kind, Severus. What is it?”

“You’re thanking me before you know what it is? I might have brewed up poison.”

Harry gave a frustrated sign.

“It’s Wolfsbane,” he said, shooting an annoyed look at Snape.

“Wolfsbane,” Lupin repeated, his voice reverent. “Severus… Severus that’s…”

Lupin sat down suddenly, feeling weak with relief. Harry took the bottle from him and placed it on the bench. Snape look out of the kitchen window and spoke through a clenched jaw.

“I… I appreciate that the… that the full moon has been… difficult. I… I regret that I have not been… felt able to brew it before now.”

“Severus, I don’t know what to say… Thank you. Thank you so much. This… it will make such a difference. I can’t thank you enough. I’m so grateful, Severus–“

“Lupin, for a man who professes that he doesn’t know what to say, you are remarkably voluble.”

“Remus,” Harry said suddenly. “Would Andromeda be up, do you think?”

“Oh yes, I’m due to drop Teddy with her in a few minutes. It’s one of my days to work on the restoration. I need to get moving.”

“I’d completely forgotten about that,” Snape said, his tone saying quite the opposite to his words. “Potter, we must be going. We wouldn’t want Lupin to be late for work.”

Snape ignored Harry’s angry look and walked from the room.

Lupin had forgotten that Wolfsbane had a downside. Not that he was ungrateful, of course. His biggest fear about the full moon was that he would harm someone, no matter what precautions he had taken. Knowing that he would have control of his mind was the greatest comfort he could have. He was relieved too that he wouldn’t wake in a pool of blood, having scratched and bitten himself, or broken and bruised from throwing himself at the walls of the shed where he transformed. But unless he’d actually knocked himself out – not unheard-of – his head would be reasonably clear no matter how much pain he was in.

Not if he’d taken Wolfsbane, though.

Lupin pressed a hand to his face, as if to reassure himself it was still there. In contrast to his head, which was throbbing, his lips and nose were numb. He gritted his teeth as the waves of nausea rolled over him and tried to steady his breathing. This will pass, he told himself, I’ll feel better soon. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to even lift his head, so he concentrated on his breaths. Breathe in, breathe out.

After a while, he thought he felt a little better, so he began pushing himself up onto his elbows. That was a mistake. The throbbing in his head became an angry pounding and he felt his chest constrict. He sank back down with a whimper of pain.

Snape had explained it to him once. Something to do with aconite being a poison which targeted the wolf within him up until the full moon. But once the wolf retreated, the full force of the poison was released on his human body. His body would adjust after a while, Snape had said, and he was right. By the end of the first year taking Wolfsbane, he was definitely recovering faster. But he hadn’t taken it now for well over a year and his body had lost any tolerance he’d had.

He felt the wards lift and heard footsteps. It wouldn’t be such a horrific sight for Andromeda as the previous month, when he’d been covered in his own blood, but it was still humiliating for him. Then a blanket was gently laid over him and a hand rested gently in the middle of his back. He let out another pained whimper.

“I’m sorry.”

His words were slurred slightly, as his tongue and lips felt like rubber.

“What are you apologising for, Lupin? It’s hardly your fault you are ill.”

“Severus.”

Lupin heard Snape sigh.

“Yes, Lupin, it’s me. I thought I ought to check on you. I remembered how ill Wolfsbane used to make you.”

“I didn’t. I forgot about that.”

A hand began to gently stroke his hair.

“I’ve brought you an anti-nausea potion, Lupin. And something to get you heart back into something a bit steadier. Can you roll over?”

“Not sure.”

Lupin tried to move, but it was as if his body had turned into lead. He managed to get one shoulder off the ground before he realised that he didn’t know what to move next. Legs, maybe. But which one?

Then Snape was lifting him and cradling him against his body. Lupin felt something against his lips and tried to draw away.

“It’s just a few drops, Lupin, and you don’t have to swallow it. Just hold it in your mouth and you will feel better.”

After a few moments with the potion in his mouth, Lupin realised that some of the nausea had faded.

“Better, Lupin?”

“Yes, what was that?”

“It’s for the nausea. Now, drink this. It’s for your heart.”

There was another vial and Lupin swallowed the contents. The tightness in his chest and some of the weakness in his limbs seemed to dissapate.

“Now you’re not in imminent danger of a heart attack, let’s get you out of this shed.”

Lupin felt his legs begin to float, although Snape was still gently holding his upper body against him. He closed his eyes, nauseated again at the movement. To distract himself, he focused on the sensation of his body leaning against Snape’s chest. He’d missed the closeness so much and was glad that Snape was being unexepectedly friendly. But he was confused as well.

He didn’t open his eyes or speak until Snape had laid him on his bed.

“Why are you doing this, Severus?”

“I told you. I remembered how ill you were after taking Wolfsbane. I thought I should check you didn’t die of aconite poisoning.”

“But why did you even make Wolfsbane for me? You wouldn’t even talk to me. You wouldn’t return my owls. You…”

Lupin paused, remembering that horrible night before the full moon.

“You said you never wanted to see me again. You said you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

Snape was silent, fiddling with some vials of potion and acting as if he hadn’t heard a word that Lupin was saying.

“This one next, Lupin. It’s a general antidote to aconite. It will reduce your symptoms in general, then if there are any particularly troubling symptoms that still persist, we can try something specific.”

Snape held the vial to Lupin’s lips and he drank without complaint. The numbness in his face was replaced by a faint tingling.

“Better?”

Lupin sighed.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to clean up a bit and then sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

Lupin attempted to get out of bed. He got as far as attempting to stand before he fell back against Snape.

“You don’t look like you are fine, Lupin.”

“Would you stop fussing over me, Severus,” Lupin snapped, pushing himself from Snape’s arms and falling back against the wall. “I’ve been getting by after the full moon for years without you and I don’t need you to just come sailing back in with your potion collection to act like you care and then just sail on out again when you’ve finished playing nurse.”

“If you’ve quite finished, Lupin…”

Snape raised his eyebrows and Lupin just felt like a fool again. He sank to the floor and sat with his face in his hands, beginning to shiver. Then Snape crouched beside him and placed his arm over Lupin’s shoulders.

“Lupin, is it true, what Potter told me, that you yelled at Shacklebolt until he let you stay in Azkaban to care for me?”

Lupin lifted his head to look at Snape, but dropped it again quickly. The dark eyes were unreadable. He couldn’t bring himself to hope any more. Instead, he contemplated shaking his head, but it was pounding, and shaking it would have probably have made him throw up.

“No, not at Kingsley. Well, I don’t think so. I may have raised my voice a little. I shouted at his staff, though. They wouldn’t let me see him.”

“I’d have like to seen that, Lupin. It must have been quite impressive.”

Lupin looked up again. There was a small smile on Snape’s face.

“Are you laughing at me, Severus?”

“No, Lupin. I’m not. The Minister’s assistants are notoriously officious. If you intimidated them enough to allow you through, it must have been impressive. I mean that.”

“I… I don’t think they really allowed me… Kingsley came out of his office because he heard me… um…”

Snape moved his hand from around Lupin’s back to stroking his hair.

“You said you wanted to clean up a bit, Lupin. I don’t think you are up to taking a shower though.”

“Andromeda normally runs a bath for me.”

“I think I can manage that.”

Lupin found himself floating again, carried down the hall and held in Snape’s arms until the bath was ready. Then he was lowered gently into the water. Snape left the room, then returned with some potion bottles. He began to pour the contents of one into the water.

“This will help your joints. What other symptoms do you have?”

Lupin closed his eyes.

“Headache, mostly. My face and limbs are tingling but… it’s not so bad. And I’m cold but the bath is helping.”

Snape gave him another potion vial to drink and the headache faded. Then he took a bottle of shampoo and, after wetting Lupin’s hair, began to massage the shampoo into Lupin’s scalp. Lupin didn’t know whether he should object. In the end, he just sighed and leaned back into Snape’s hands, which were firm but not rough. He couldn’t remember anyone ever washing his hair for him before. Well, his mother, but that wasn’t quite the same.

“Lupin, why did you tell Potter you neither liked not disliked me?”

“Hmm?”

Lupin’s brain struggled to focus. He began to speak before he realised what he was doing.

“He put me on the spot. The night before, we’d been together. All I could think of was the way you had been, writhing under me, all hungry and needy and begging me to fuck you harder… you were so hot and so sweet–“

“Lupin, I am not sweet.”

For a moment, the hands on his head went still and tight. Lupin sighed. He was still going to need to watch his words.

“Well, no, not in general, Severus. After we’d… well after that you started an argument about something pointless and stormed off. You… I suppose… it makes it all the more endearing when you do something that is sweet. Like the way you used to ask me to take care of you. I loved that.”

Lupin closed his eyes and focused on the hands, which had resumed their massage of his scalp. He left Snape to think about his words, knowing not to push his luck. After the shampoo had been rinsed from his hair and Snape began to rub his back with a soapy cloth, Lupin spoke again.

“Harry has been talking to you, hasn’t he.”

Snape lifted Lupin’s arm slightly, continuing to wash his body. He washed Lupin’s chest without looking at him, then moved on to his arms. His head was hanging forward, covering his face with his hair.

“Potter has been… telling me tales of your Gyffindor gallantry. Apparently he was offended on your behalf that I once said you had less spine than a flobberworm. He feels the need to correct my misconceptions. Granger appears to have joined him in this undertaking.”

A small smile played across Lupin’s lips. He could picture it. A trapped Snape, being lectured by Harry and Hermione, rolling his eyes and making disparaging comments about Lupin, which would only encourage them to lecture him more.

“So you’ve concluded that living at Grimmaud Place is intolerable and that Teddy and I are not quite as insufferable as you thought?”

“I never thought your offspring was insufferable, Lupin.”

That was true, Lupin knew. Snape clearly had no idea how to interact with a baby, but he had been fascinated. Even in his foulest moods he was usually willing to sit by Teddy’s cot and read to him. Lupin didn’t think that his son was particularly interested in the latest issue of The Practical Potioneer or One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, but Teddy would watch Snape with wide eyes and grab his hair if he came close.

“I never said you were insufferable either, Lupin,” he mumbled, still hiding behind his curtain of hair. “I said I didn’t trust you.”

Lupin felt the tiny bubble of hope inside him deflate and he sank back against the bath. Snape didn’t trust him and never would. Where could they go from there?

“I still don’t, I suppose,” Snape continued.

Lupin closed his eyes and turned his head away. He couldn’t understand why Snape had chosen to torment him at this moment, at his lowest point after the full moon. He’d come at the time where Lupin felt worst about himself, filled with disgust for what he became with each full moon, his body aching, head throbbing and limbs weak with exhaustion. He just wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

“But I’m trying, Lupin.”

Snape put the flannel down and rested his hands on the edge of the bath. His face was still covered by his hair.

“Severus, please don’t toy with me. I don’t think I can take it right now. I’ve been trying to accept that you… that we are over. That you’ve made yourself clear and I need to live with it. And now you are here, tormenting me with the possibility that you might change your mind.”

Snape’s head seemed to sag further.

“I want to trust you, Lupin. I really do. I… I just don’t think I know how. Not you… not anyone.”

His voice was little more than a whisper.

“Lupin, I realise that I’ve been rather… well, that I was rather harsh. When I said… when I called you a coward… I hadn’t realised the extent to which you had stood up for me in the last few months. Also during the war. I… I had no idea you’d tried so hard to convince Potter I was loyal. I… I realised then how very badly hurt you must have been when… when I…”

Snape’s voice caught and Lupin lifted his head to see Snape’s dark eyes peering out through his hair.

“Severus?”

“It wasn’t fair of me… I blamed you for how I felt but that wasn’t fair… I just… it just hurt and I… I’m… Lupin, I’m sorry. I’ve missed you so much. I want you, I want to be with you. But I’m… I don’t know how… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Lupin lifted a wet hand out of the bath water and pushed some of Snape’s hair behind his ear. He could see tears running down the pale face now.

“Severus.”

Lupin was trembling, they were both trembling, both with tears running down their cheeks. Then Lupin was pulling Snape towards him, kissing him softly on the lips, pulling him into a hug with arms that were dripping wet. Snape hugged him back, face pressed into the damp skin of Lupin’s neck, clinging to him as if he would never let go.

“I’m sorry, Severus, I’ve got you all wet,” Lupin said finally. He pulled back and looked at Severus, noticing that his robe was damp where Lupin had dripped on him.

Severus looked up shyly, through his hair. He gave a small smile.

“I won’t melt,” he said.


	12. Chapter 12

Remus woke to the feeling of an arm across his hip and warm breath at the back of his neck. He didn’t feel like moving, so lay there listening to the soft sounds of Snape’s breathing. He reached his hand down until it closed around the pale hand that rested against his body. Snape’s breathing hitched slightly, then returned to its even pattern.

This was Lupin’s third month taking Wolfsbane and it was still making him miserably sick. As least, though, Snape was there to look after him afterwards. Lupin still didn’t feel safe transforming anywhere but the shed, but Snape was there within minutes of moonset, administering potions, carrying him into the house, bathing him and putting him to bed. And, apparently, crawling into bed with him. This was new, and it made Lupin smile.

Since that first full moon where he had made Wolfsbane again, Snape had moved back into Andromeda’s spare room. He was friendlier and more open with Lupin. Some days, he would join Lupin for walks in the hills, Teddy in a frontpack attached to Lupin’s, then eventually Snape’s, chest. They would walk together, on occasion holding hands. Sometimes, as Snape paused for breath – or to admire the view, he said – Lupin would stand behind him and slide his arms around his waist, chin on his shoulder. In the evenings they would play chess or listen to music and read.

Other days, though, the old Severus returned, all scowls, sneers and sarcasm. Lupin gave him more space then, but not too much. He suspected that it was his ability to weather fair mood and foul that Snape was, consciously or unconsciously, testing.

Lupin began to shift uncomfortably in the bed. Pleasant as it was lying with Snape’s arm around him, he needed the toilet. He wriggled forward and pushed himself up so he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Remus?”

Snape was calling him Remus now, mostly.

“Just going to the toilet.”

He pushed himself up on shaky legs and then Snape was beside him, a hand under his elbow.

“I’m okay, Severus.”

He walked down the corridor with Snape following, watching with concern. By the time he had finished, the ground was beginning to move slightly and he accepted Snape’s arm around his waist to help him back to bed. Lupin reached up and put an arm around Snape’s neck.

“It was nice waking up with you, sweetheart,” Lupin said.

Snape’s cheeks took on a faint flush.

“I hope we can do it more often,” he continued, and Snape blushed further, looking away. Lupin reached up his hand and stroked the pale cheek.

“Will you come back to bed now?”

“You need to eat something.”

Snape turned and fled the room.

Remus gave a frustrated sigh. That was how things went, he would think he was making progress, but then he’d push Snape just that bit too far. He cursed his impatience. He knew Snape had a limited tolerance for affection and still he couldn’t resist. He sometimes wondered why Snape didn’t just walk away from someone who constantly transgressed his boundaries. 

Snape returned to the bedroom followed by a levitating tray of soup and bread.

“Dinner,” he said, directing the tray to Lupin’s lap.

He sat and fidgeted while Lupin ate. Lupin glanced up now and again, watching him. Snape was anxious about something, that much was obvious.

“I’m sorry if I was too pushy, Severus. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Snape shook his head.

“It’s not that. It’s not… it’s nothing you’ve done.”

He stood and began to pace.

“Severus, what’s the matter?”

Snape continued to pace. Lupin reached out and grabbed his hand as he passed close to the bed.

“Severus, sit down, please.”

He help Snape’s hand and gently pulled him down so he was seated on the edge of the bed. Snape sat stiffly, hip against Lupin, shoulders and jaw tight. Lupin levitated the tray aside and pushed himself up until he could put an arm around Snape’s waist.

“What’s wrong, love?”

Snape let out a breath.

“What would you do if I hurt Teddy?”

For a moment, Lupin felt himself overwhelmed with panic. Where was Teddy? What had happened? Was his son alright?

Then he remembered. Teddy always spent the full moon with Andromeda. He was fine. Andromeda would let him know immediately if there was the least sniffle, full moon or not. They always did that with each other, both paranoid about the tiny child who meant the world to both of them.

He felt calm again, but he knew he hadn’t been fast enough to mask the look of horror that had flashed across his face, and Severus had seen it.

“What makes you ask that, Severus?” Lupin said gently, reaching one hand up to push the stringy black hair away from Snape’s eyes. “You are lovely with Teddy. He adores it when you read to him.”

Lupin had been completely enraptured by the way Snape had taken to Teddy. He’d been hesitant at first, just as Lupin had been, uncertain of how to handle a baby. But Andromeda and Lupin had shown him what to do, and he had been meticulous in following their instructions. He executed nappy-changing charms with determined precision, prepared formula as if it was the most advanced potion, held him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. As he was, of course. And the way he read to him, in that beautiful voice, made Lupin melt.

It made Lupin melt, although in a different way, seeing Snape looking at his hands in abject misery.

“I’m afraid, Lupin. What if I did something? He’s so small.”

“Severus.”

Lupin brushed the hair back from his face and stroked the edge of his cheek.

“What has brought this on, Severus?”

“I… I can see you are… that you aren’t the same as when we were at school. I can’t call you a coward anymore. I can’t say you wouldn’t stand up for me, because I realise that you have. More than anyone else ever did.”

There was a pause and Lupin suspected that Snape was fighting tears.

“But I know that you’d protect Teddy too. And he would come first. As he should – I wouldn’t have it any other way – I couldn’t respect you if… if you were the sort of man who would stand by and allow his child to be abused. But… what if… what if I hurt him? Then you’d have to… have to protect him against me.”

“Oh, Severus.”

Lupin pulled Snape to him with both arms, feeling the faint tremble in his body. For a few moments, he was lost for words. What would make Snape say such things? Did he really want to hurt Teddy? Could he still love him if he did?

And then he remembered their first year at Hogwarts. The thin, wary boy in dirty, ill-fitting clothes, the way he flinched when people raised their wands in his direction or when someone yelled too loudly, the wild temper and the disturbing number of dark curses which he spewed forth when cornered. Even Sirius, with his family steeped in dark arts, hadn’t heard of half of them.

“Severus. I remember, even back in in first year, whenever you were threatened, you used to retaliate. Do you remember that?”

Lupin felt Snape nod his head against his shoulder.

“You knew so many dark curses. I was just a child too, and I thought that knowing those curses must mean you were evil.”

The memory made him cringe, but he had been too innocent to realise what it really meant.

“But I have a different understanding now, Severus. You knew those curses because someone used them on you, didn’t they? Someone abused you, and that’s what you grew up knowing, isn’t it.”

Once again, Lupin felt a nod against his shoulder. The faint tremble in Snape’s body had intensified and his fingers were gripping Lupin’s arms.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know, love. I won’t make you, but if you do, I’m here, okay.”

Lupin paused, his head swimming and feeling slightly ill. He didn’t think to closely about whether it was the full moon, or thinking about what Snape had gone through.

“Here, I need to lie back.”

He leaned back against the pillows, pulling Snape with him. The dark head rested against his chest and the man in his arms shivered and occasionally let out a faint whimper. He began to stroke the black hair, noticing that it was now shot with grey. 

“It’s alright, Severus. You’re safe now. That’s all over.”

“But it’s not.”

Lupin continued the gentle stroking.

“What do you mean, Severus? I don’t understand.”

“I… I just repeated it. I…”

Snape paused, obviously struggling to explain. Lupin sat in silence, hand still moving gently across the back of his head.

“Do you remember, Remus, when you taught at Hogwarts, you told me you were disappointed that I’d become a bully?”

Lupin’s hand paused for a moment, then resumed stroking.

“Yes, Severus, I do. But that was a long time ago.”

“I know, but… Remus, I never said this, but I…”

The hand that clutched at Lupin’s shirt clenched tighter and the pitch of the slightly muffled voice intensified.

“It surprised me, when you said that. It never crossed my mind that I was… that I was a bully. I thought I was strict. I needed to be, when I first came to teach I was only twenty-two. Some of the older students knew me, some had even seen… at the lake, that time…”

Lupin remained silent. It wasn’t something he wanted to remember even though that day haunted him.

“But I wasn’t a bully, not in my mind. Bullies ganged up. Four against one, cornering their victim and attacking with hexes and jinxes or fists and feet. I just yelled a lot and was sarcastic, I never hit a student… well, one time with Potter, I pushed him, but… I’d never seen myself as a bully.”

Snape drew in a long breath, then released with a soft sigh.

“But you were right, and I couldn’t even see it, because my own views of how to treat people were so… so distorted by my own experiences.”

Lupin sighed. It explained a lot.

“Severus, why bring this up now? It’s been years.”

Snape shook his head against Lupin’s chest.

“Do you remember when you called me abusive?”

“When I…?”

For a moment, Lupin was confused, then he remembered.

“Oh, Severus.”

“It was just the same. I didn’t think I was abusive. I couldn’t be. I didn’t curse you, I didn’t hit you… I didn’t… “

Snape had begun to tremble slightly.

“I… I’m sorry, Remus. I didn’t mean to be like that. I didn’t even see it… I’m so sorry.”

Finally, his voice cracked and Lupin heard him give a broken sob.

“Severus,” he said, tightening both arms around the weeping man. “Shh, now.”

“No. You don’t… understand… If I can be… like that and not… not even know it… how can I be safe… around Teddy? How can I… be around children? If… if Andromeda gets her wish…”

Ah, now he was getting to the point. Andromeda had been contacted by the Ministry to see if she would take on the care of the infant niece she hadn’t even known existed. She’d agreed immediately and, seeing that she was unfazed at the prospect of raising the offspring of two Death Eaters, the Ministry had then asked whether she would take on some other children. And so, as soon as she had found a suitable house, she would be caring for her niece, the two Yaxley girls, aged three and five, and the only surviving Gibbon child, aged six, who had been given to Greyback following the death of his father.

“Severus…”

Lupin held Snape tight and breathed slowly until he calmed. He didn’t know what to say, what would reassure the former Death Eater that Lupin simply didn’t believe he would be a danger to Teddy or any child. He had a vicious tongue and sometimes had difficulty controlling his temper, but he had also protected children under terribly difficult circumstances.

Snape had had little to say about Andromeda’s plans to care for the four children. He’d offhandedly noted that the Yaxley girls were well-mannered and tolerable, and began researching the dosage of Wolfsbane for children. But he had been more anxious, Lupin realised. When Andromeda had announced that she’d found the perfect property for them all – a remote, rambling farmhouse with a derelict but repairable cottage nearby – Snape had gone silent and had been very subdued ever since.

“Severus, do you remember when I said… when I said I wouldn’t tolerate abusive behaviour from you?”

“Of course… I’ll never forget that…”

“Severus, can you remember exactly what happened?”

“You took Teddy to Andromeda’s and then told me off. And I thoroughly humiliated myself.”

“Oh, love. I don’t think you humiliated yourself, but I did remove Teddy from the situation and then spoke to you about your behaviour. And that’s what I would do in future if I thought your behaviour was not appropriate around children. I don’t for a moment believe you would hurt a child, whatever you have been through yourself. But I do… I do think that you can lose your temper and get angry and frighten then, or upset them with unkind comments. I’m prepared to help you learn a better way, Severus. If you’ll let me.”

Snape let out a long sigh and Lupin felt him relax slightly.

“Besides,” Lupin continued, “it’s not like I would want to bring up Teddy – or any child – the way I was brought up either.”

“I would have thought that would be reasonably simple to avoid – don’t let him get bitten.”

“I don’t mean that, Severus. I mean… my parents went to every quack, charlatan and snake-oil salesman in search of a cure for lycanthropy. Some of the supposed cures were… rather traumatic.”

Snape pushed himself up so he could look Lupin in the eye with a fierce intensity.

“Go on, Lupin.”

His voice was tight, jaw clenched.

“It was horrible. I begged them to stop taking me, but they were so desperate for a cure. I… I can’t blame them. When I’d been bitten, there were staff at the Ministry who’d told my father to have me put down. So they kept on trying, no matter how much I begged and cried, no matter how much it hurt and frightened me. And I thought… somehow, I felt inside it was my fault. I deserved those things because of who I was. And my parents were always explaining how I had to make sure nobody every found out. So I mustn’t draw attention to myself. I must be careful – be polite and unobtrusive and agreeable. Not too loud or pushy, people might notice and start to ask questions, not grumpy and silent though, because then they might wonder what was wrong with me. From that, I learned to… I learned that I was unacceptable, and the only way I could be tolerated is if I was very careful…”

Lupin looked up at Snape, his voice trailing away as he saw the look in the man’s eyes. It had been a long time since he had seen that level of restrained fury.

“How could they do that Lupin? It wasn’t your fault you got bitten. How could they make you feel you deserved it?”

“Severus…”

Lupin paused and reached up a hand to cup Snape’s face with his hand.

“They didn’t mean to hurt me, Severus. They did their best. And it’s about thirty years too late if you want to get protective about how my parents treated me. But… well, I appreciate it, nonetheless. It’s sweet that you feel like that about it.”

Snape gave a sigh and some of the tension left his body.

“I am not sweet, Lupin,” he said.

“No, Severus, of course you aren’t,” Lupin replied, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.


	13. Chapter 13

It came as no surprise to Lupin that Severus Snape was not a morning person. It came as more of a surprise that, regardless of this fact, Snape still rose at six every morning. He’d set his wand to wake him, then lurch out of bed to the bathroom where he would splash cold water in his face and perform a few half-hearted cleaning charms. Then he’d sit in the kitchen reading potion journals and drinking cups of strong coffee with evident displeasure. By the time Lupin rose – no later than seven and often before as Teddy frequently woke him earlier – Snape was capable of holding a simple conversation without being too rude.

It took some degree of planning and organisation to change that routine to one that suited Lupin better.

He’d started simply by suggesting that Snape sleep a little later. The man had looked at him as if he was mad.

“I’m used to it,” he’d said, as if that explained everyong. Lupin sighed, knowing he had a challenge ahead of him.

He next tried to reverse the wand alarm. That worked once. When he realised that he’d overslept, the appalled Snape had added extra anti-tampering charms to his wand, as well as charming the curtains to open and the lights to turn on at six.

Lupin concluded that he’d have to wake before Snape to get his plan to work. This wasn’t really a hardship, as Lupin was a morning person anyway.

His next mistake was starting too late, only a few minutes before six. He had leaned across and gently whispered “good morning, sweetheart” in Snape’s ear. He began to move from his ear and down his jaw – slightly scratchy with morning stubble – with soft kisses. Snape’s eyes blinked open and he made a small sound which suggested he was enjoying the attention. Encouraged, Remus began to kiss down his neck, nibbling the skin slightly as he reached the point where neck met shoulder.

Then Snape’s wand began to make an irritating buzz, the curtains flung open and the lights flashed on. Snape gave an incoherent grunt and got out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom leaving a frustrated Lupin alone.

Earlier, then. He’d have to start earlier.

The next morning, Lupin was moving from Snape’s nipples, down his chest and towards his belly, when the alarm sounded and Snape shoved Lupin away and rolled out of bed. The same thing happened the following morning when Lupin was stroking Snape’s half erect penis through the fabric of his pyjamas.

By this time, Lupin was sure Snape knew what was going on. Either he really didn’t want to enjoy lazy, slow morning sex with Lupin, or the Slytherin was teasing him.

The following morning, Lupin was determined to get the timing perfect. He charmed a clock onto the wall above the bed to he could check he had the moment right. He needed Snape to be sufficiently distracted that he wouldn’t obey the alarm, but he didn’t want to go so far that everything was over before the alarm went off. He was going to get it exactly right.

He started, as he usually did, with soft whispers in Snape’s ear. The dark-haired man barely stirred. The whispers became soft kisses, alternating with Lupin blowing gently agains the pale skin. He moved along Snape’s jaw, a faint stubble prickling his lips, then down the pale neck. Snape’s breath gave a hitch and then his Adam’s apple moved under Lupin’s mouth. Although his breathing quickly returned to its slow and steady rhythm, Lupin knew that Snape was now awake. As he nibbled and sucked at the curve where neck and shoulder joined, Lupin began to slide his hand up under Snape’s pyjama top. His fingertips skimmed random patterns over the skin of his chest, eventually circling one nipple then closing into a sharp pinch.

Snape gave a yelp and his eyes flicked open. Lupin pushed himself up to look into the dark eyes.

“Oh, you’re awake, Severus.”

Snape narrowed his eyes and Lupin bent down to kiss him as he unbuttoned the pyjama top, before moving his mouth down Snape’s body, licking at the nipple as if in apology. Lupin continued with the buttons, moving down the pale torso with his lips following his hands, until he reached the waistband of his pyjamas.

“What do we have here?” he said, brushing his cheek against the taut fabric. “I think you are enjoying this.”

He turned his head so that his nose touched the hardness beneath, then his lips. His fingers curled around the waistband of Snape’s pyjama pants, sliding them down and releasing the throbbing erection.

Lupin glanced up at clock and noticed suspicious eyes watching him. His mouth quirked into a faint smile before he lowered his head, grazing his lips gently across the swollen cock head. Then he brushed his faintly prickly cheek against the shaft as he began to kiss Severus’ hip. He worked his way down to Snape’s thigh, occasionally brushing against the hardness and feeling Snape arch in response.

“You want this, don’t you, love,” Lupin murmured, lips brushing the pale skin of Snape’s inner thigh. “You want me.”

A groan escaped Snape’s lips.

“What was that, Severus? I didn’t quite hear you,” Lupin replied, his warm breath on Snape’s skin.

“Yes, yes, Remus. Suck me, please.”

“Very well, Severus.”

Lupin began to kiss his way up the swollen shaft. As he reached the tip, he slid his tongue out between his lips and licked up the drop of clear fluid. He glanced at the clock one more time, before parting his lips and engulfing the entire erection in the wet warmth of his mouth.

And then, with a startling buzz, the wand alarm sounded, the curtains flung open and the full glare of the lights came on.

A curse escaped Snape’s lips, his hand quickly grasping the wand and silencing it.

Lupin drew his mouth slowly up Snape’s throbbing cock, pulling away with a flick of his tongue across the engorged glans.

“Time to get up, sweetheart,” he said, his lips shiny with saliva and precome.

Snape opened his mouth as if to speak, but the only sound he made was an incoherent groan.

“Or we could just stay in bed, I suppose,” he continued, eyes bright with amusement. His tongue flicked out between his lips, giving Snape another lick on the tip of his penis.

Another incoherent sound escaped Snape’s lips and Lupin took him into his mouth again in response. This time he ignored the clock as he gave his full concentration to sucking and licking and sliding his lips over the throbbing prick. Snape was moaning and writhing, strands of black hair clinging to the sweat on his face. Then he was coming, his emission pulsing into Lupin’s ready mouth, his body shuddering, a strangled cry escaping his throat.

When he was finished, Lupin pulled himself back up to kiss Snape on the lips.

“Do you…” Snape said, panting for breath slightly, “do you want to… you know…”

He shifted around so that his buttocks were pressed against Lupin’s hardness.

“Not sure I’m feeling that energetic at this time of day, Severus. I’ll just…”

He moved his hand down between their bodies.

Snape pushed himself away then turned around, kissing Lupin’s lips then moving down his chest.

“Let me, Remus.”

Lupin felt himself drawn into Snape’s mouth, the supple tongue caressing his shaft and a deep groan from Snape’s throat vibrating against his tip. It seemed like only moments before he felt the waves of sensation build then crash as he surged in the slippery softness.

Snape had barely drawn himself up to rest his head on Lupin’s chest before they heard the door handle turn.

“You… you didn’t think to lock the door, Lupin?” Snape hissed in his ear.

“Oops,” Lupin replied, pushing himself upright as Snape rolled away from him.

A small figure stepped hesitantly into the room. Tears ran down his face, snot ran from his nose and there was a dark patch on the front of his blue pyjama pants.

“Thomas, love, what’s the matter?”

The boy put out his arms and ran to Remus, who leaned over the side of the bed and wrapped an arm around him. With his other arm he held the bedclothes tightly to his chest.

“I had a bad dream, Remus. Then I woke up and I… I’d had an accident.”

Thomas was sobbing snottily against Lupin’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, love. These things happen, don’t they. It’s no problem.”

Thomas nodded and his sobbing slowed then stopped.

“Thomas, how about you go to the bathroom and start getting out of your wet pants, and I’ll get some clean pyjamas for you and meet you in the bathroom.”

He nodded again and trotted from the room, clearly much happier.

Lupin reached under the covers to find his pyjama pants, which were somewhere around his knees, and pulled them up. He leaned across and gave Snape a quick kiss before pushing himself out of bed.

“Sorry, Severus.”

Snape rolled his eyes.

“Why are you apologising, Remus? As I recall, we both thought that this was a good idea.”

Lupin grabbed his wand, summoned a clean pair of Thomas’s pyjamas and walked from the room.


	14. Chapter 14

Andromeda had got her wish – moving to the rambling farmhouse and taking in her niece and the three other children. They all knew it would be a change, but they’d had no idea just how tough it would be. Nor did they realise just how important the children would become to them all.

The two sisters, Corvina and Merry (none of them could bring themselves to call the younger girl by her given name of Merope) had settled quickly. They missed their parents, who were both likely to be in Azkaban until the girls were middle-aged, but clearly the Yaxley home life had not seriously traumatised them. They adored Teddy, especially when they would show him a doll and he would change his hair to match it. When they tired of playing “match the doll” they would run around the house with Teddy – his hair now matching their beautiful golden curls – crawling after them.

Delphini Lestrange, on the other hand, barely responded to any of them. Although six months older than Teddy, she was smaller than he was. She barely moved, barely made a sound, not even to cry, and appeared to pay very little attention to anyone. She had arrived clutching a filthy blanket and the only sound she made was an unearthly screaming when anyone tried to take it from her. Andromeda had commented angrily that if her sister wasn’t already dead she would kill her for allowing a baby to get into such a condition. She put the tiny girl into a sling and carried her everywhere, blanket and all.

Thomas Gibbon, who'd been retrieved from Greyback's camp at the end of the war, was also a badly traumatised child. His nightmares were almost constant and Andromeda, Lupin and Snape had taken turns to sit beside his bed at night until he was more settled. Even so, he still had terrifying nightmares several times a week, accompanied by frequent bedwetting.

Lupin gently helped Thomas wash himself and then change into the clean pyjamas.

“That’s better, isn’t it, Thomas,” Lupin said as he finished buttoning the top.

Thomas nodded.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” he said, looking at the floor.

“Well, we will see. I know you don’t do this on purpose. It’s just when you have bad dreams, isn’t it.”

Thomas nodded again.

“And you aren’t having as many bad dreams as you used to, are you?”

Thomas shook his head.

“You know, you aren’t the only one to have nightmares.”

“Really?” Thomas said, looking up at Lupin with wide eyes.

“Everybody has bad dreams sometimes, but when you have had things in your life that are frightening, you often have more of them. Severus and I both have nightmares sometimes, from the scary things in our lives.”

Lupin thought of the time he’d cared for Snape in Azkaban and the way that, even now, the former spy would often wake in a panic. Among Snape’s posessions, Lupin had found the cardigan he had left him when he’d been ill. It now had a permanent home under Snape’s pillow.

“Thomas, how about you lie down for a bit and see if you can get back to sleep. If you can’t, how about you look at a book while I get breakfast started.”

Thomas held Lupin’s hand as they walked back to his bedroom. Lupin cast the bed cleaning charm which both he and Snape were now expert at and tucked him in under the covers, which were decorated with quaffles, bludgers and snitches. Thomas closed his eyes as he laid his head on the pillow. Lupin could see that he was still very tired – the boy often had dark circles under his eyes and they’d found that giving him an afternoon nap helped, even though he was nearly seven.

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching the now-angelic looking boy as he drifted off to sleep. Thomas had been almost feral when he first arrived at the farmhouse. He ate his food off the floor, peed in the corners of the room and screamed obscenities if anyone gently corrected him. On the other hand, he froze in terror and soiled his pants if anyone became visibly angry and yelled at him. Of course, it was Snape who discovered this and had been wracked with guilt for losing his temper with the boy.

However after a couple of full moons, Thomas seemed to realise that Lupin was both a werewolf and a kind, reliable adult. The two had formed a close bond. When Lupin and Snape had finished repairing the derelict cottage and moved in, Thomas had joined them and Teddy. Andromeda had quite enough on her plate with the three girls.

Lupin walked back to the bedroom he shared with Severus, pausing briefly to look in on Teddy, who was still fast asleep with one arm thrown above his head.

“Thomas is back to sleep, Severus,” Lupin said as he walked into the room. “Teddy’s still asleep too.”

Snape pushed himself up until he was seated against the headboard.

“This morning’s… exercise,” Snape said, looking uncertain, “what was that in aid of?”

“What do you mean, Severus?”

Lupin sat down on the bed next to him and took his hand.

“Well, you’ve been trying… in the morning… I wasn’t sure why so I just, went along…”

“Do I need a reason to want to make love to you?” Lupin said.

“No… but I can tell… I was a spy for Merlin’s sake, I can tell when someone has an agenda.”

Lupin nodded, gripping Snape’s hand tighter and giving him a slightly crooked smile.

“Well, we’ve both been so tired lately, since we’ve been in the cottage we’ve been so busy with Teddy and Thomas that we haven’t spent much time just… well, just us. And you always seem so grim in the mornings, like you hate getting up but force yourself to. I wanted to try and make things a bit nicer.”

“I have things I need to do, Remus. I’ll never get the Wolfsbane brewed if I spend all day lazing in bed.”

Neither Lupin nor Snape had had much luck finding employment since the Hogwarts restoration had been completed, and while Andromeda got a small amount of money for caring for the children, it was insufficient to support three adults and five children. Finally, after some persistent suggestions from Hermione, the Ministry had agreed to fund Wolfsbane for the small number of werewolves who had not been associated with Greyback, and so hadn’t been locked in Azkaban or executed. It wasn’t much money for the work required, especially as Snape was also making a range of healing potions for them and accepting only the payment that they were able to afford. But it was enough for them to survive.

“I was just hoping that you might get up an hour or so later, Severus. I’m up before seven, I can bring you coffee, you know. It just seems like you are sticking to old habits that you don’t enjoy very much. Maybe a change would be nice.”

Snape gave a sigh.

“I don’t suppose it crossed your mind to just talk about it.”

“I did try, love. But I must have done something wrong because you seemed to respond as if I was criticising you. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

“Oh.”

Snape looked down, hiding behind his hair. He had improved, without a doubt, but he was still very defensive and would pick fights when he felt threatened. Lupin had, at least, figured out the behaviour and usually managed to avoid getting sucked in.

“Besides, love, wasn’t this a much more fun way?”

Lupin slipped his hand under Snape’s chin and tilted his head up. He leaned in for a kiss, before drawing back with a small smile.

“I suppose I might concede that point, Lupin.”

“Oh, so I’m Lupin again, am I, Severus?”

Snape raised his eyebrows then lifted his hand to Lupin’s face. He ran his fingers down the his jaw before pushing his fingers into the greying hair. He leaned forward, giving Lupin a teasing kiss before moving his lips to the ear.

“My apologies, Remus,” he breathed. “Now, I believe you mentioned something about coffee?”


End file.
